Blackbird
by klaralynn
Summary: As soon as she wakes up, Hogwarts student Olympe McLewis knows that something is wrong. She is no longer in her gold and crimson striped bed. Instead, she is laying on the ground of a vast valley. And it is only the beginning: Soon, the young witch is faced with an Uruk'hai regiment. While a bit further away, a Dwarf, an Elf and a man are tracking the Ores who took their friends...
1. Panic & Disillusionment Charm

Hi, my name is Klara. Lynn, a friend of mine started writing a crossover fanfiction of Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter a few months ago. Since then, she's been sharing it in French on her main account **caro-hearts** :

s/12242649/1/Blackbird

Since I'm a Potterhead that loves languages, I translated it for her, so that more LoTR and HP fans can enjoy her witty and imaginative stories.

* * *

Welcome, oh noble reader. You just walked into a story which has the LoTR's universe as core, yet finds its originality in its unique main character.

Except Olympe and her friends & family, everything here belongs of course to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

I hope you have as good a time reading this as I had writing it.

* * *

 **I**

The cold was the first thing she noticed. An icy old spreading through her, stinging every inch of her body. For an instant, she thought someone had dropped a bucket of water on her.

She could feel the sharp bite of the wind, maybe she and her roommates had forgotten to close a window before going to bed. Olympe felt around for her blanket, shivering, but all she could find was a wet and earthy surface under her fingers.

 _Something's wrong._

She slowly opened her eyes. The light surrounding her was blinding and her heart was hammering louder and louder in her chest. She looked around, blinking a couple times – was it a dream? - and discovered she was in the middle of a sea of green, the grass wet with dew.

She couldn't possibly have fallen asleep in the park, could she?

Lifting her gaze, she saw the horizon: a range of snow-topped mountains and infinite valleys, some still in shadows yet untouched by the morning sun.

Struggling to get up, she felt a weight on her shoulders. Her backpack! She hadn't had the strength to put it away the night before as she crawled into bed.

She got on her feet and once steady, she examined the area further. Lush fields and hills, but no trace of Hogwarts - her school - or of the Great Lake and even less of the Forbidden Forest.

« - Merlin's knickers! What the heck is going on? » She couldn't help but ask out loud.

She could feel a knot forming in her stomach. What could possibly have happened? What unusual thing could she have done the night before, that would explain her being there?

She tried remembering. After the banquet, Olympe and her two friends had readied their bags for their usual _Nocturnal_ _Expedition._ An expedition that consisted of walking around in the castle at night like great explorers and learning more of the secrets the school held.

An expedition that had ended around 3am at Hogsmeade, after traveling through the hidden passage that linked the Come and Go Room to the Hog's Head.

They'd been so tired getting back to the seventh year's dormitory that none of them had bothered changing into their pyjamas.

She checked her clothes: a long-sleeved sweater and trousers, both black, her red and gold scarf the only bright spot - the Hogwarts skirt not being very practical for night escapades.

She noticed her clothes were drenched, as if it had been raining before she woke.

She was surprised to notice that she wasn't wearing her shoes. Her mother would probably have been proud to know that even tired enough to keep her backpack on, she'd still had it in her to take of her shoes - although finding herself on wet earth now wearing only socks turned out to be extremely uncomfortable.

A strike of panic seized Olympe as she patted around her leg. Her wand was gone. She'd modified all of her trousers so they'd have a pocket especially for that, so it would always be at hand's reach. But her fingers only met emptiness.

She dropped her backpack down, imagining all the worst scenarios: being alone, not having magic, as defenceless as a muggle, freezing to death in a place she didn't know, unable to protect herself.

The knot in her belly grew tighter and she ripped her leather bag open and in one quick gesture emptied it on the ground. A large object fell out in a cacophonous crash. _Oops, the guitar…_

 _What if there are wild beasts?_

It had been magically modified to be a lot larger from the inside. She riffled through it: chocolate frogs, her grimoire, her pencil case, her friend Lisa's makeup bag, her camera…

What if she was faced with an Acromantula? Ever since she'd heard about the rumour saying the Forbidden Forest was home to a colony of them in her first year, she hadn't gone near the woods.

 _No, stay calm, breath._

… spare parchment, sugar quills, her thermos, cauldron cakes, her bluebell flames jar, hair ties…

 _Or worse! What if there are werewolves?_

Her search grew more frantic. Her blond curls kept falling in her eyes and with an angry toss, she threw them over her shoulder.

… tissues, caramels, liquorice wands, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, …

 _But there's enough to feed an army in there!_

Oh, yes, duh, she'd been in charge of snacks the night before…

She shook her bag again and the desperately needed wand sprang out off one of the front pockets. She grabbed it, sagging down with relief and held her wand tightly, waiting for her heartbeat to slow.

 _Everything's fine…_

 _Well no, it's not! What do I do now? Did they even realize I've disappeared at school?_

Those thoughts kept going in circle in her brain for a good while.

First, she used a spell to dry her wet cloth – which thankfully stopped her shivering - and started organizing her backpack.

How could she contact them? How would they know where she was? She had no owl with her and there was no town nearby!

« Calm yourself down. », she said out loud, taking a deep breath. « Good ol'McGonagall will have contacted the Aurors' HQ and told them about my disappearing and I'll be back to school as if none of this had ever happened. »

But the hours kept slipping away and the sun kept rising in the sky until her panic finally reached a point where she could no longer stay still.

She started walking, hoping to find a town or a village.

She reached something that looked like a trail to her and decided to follow it – she was probably more likely to meet someone that way.

She walked like this for several hours, her gaze turned down, towards her smarting feet, her once white socks now blackened with earth and mud.

To Olympe, it was a hypnotic rhythm to watch: right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, and so further on.

Walking, walking without interruptions, ignoring the sharp ache of the rocks cutting into her feet. The pain did slow her, forcing Olympe to be careful of what she stepped on.

In that moment, she would have traded all the chocolate frogs in the world for a good pair of walking shoes or just slippers.

Then it struck her! She stopped and muttered « ...apparating. »

If the situation hadn't been this alarming she would laughed out loud! How could she not have thought of it already? Apparition! It was the obvious solution! She'd gotten her permit a year ago and apparating hadn't even crossed her mind!

 _What an airhead I can be sometimes!_

She closed her eyes and focused on her destination: Hogsmeade - you couldn't apparate into Hogwarts anyway.

Seconds ticked away, then minutes. After ten minutes of hard focus Olympe had to admit the obvious: wherever she was, it wasn't a place you could disapparate from.

A few tears of frustration escaped her eyes and shortly she broke down crying.

 _I'm lost! I'm lost, alone and without a single landmark! I just don't get it! I don't get it! I... don't...understand..._ Of course, crying wouldn't get her anywhere but right then, it felt like the only thing she was able to do.

A light earthquake caught her attention. Something was getting closer… and either it was something huge or there was a lot of it.

Instinctively, she went to hide in the heights that framed the path.

Better be unseen and observe what was coming than be surprised by whatever it was.

She climbed a few rocks - not without gaining a few scratches in the process -, and lay down on the stone, becoming part of it, hidden in the shadows.

Taking her bag off her shoulders, she got hold of her grimoire. The girl had never had a great memory and except for the very basic enchantments or combat spells, she'd always needed help remembering either the words or the gesture.

That grimoire was Olympe's whole world summed up. She kept pictures, drawings, History of Magic lessons in it and most importantly, the list of all the spells she'd ever studied or cast in her seven years at Hogwarts, all arranged in alphabetical order, then a second time by type.

She used a disillusionment charm and waited. That enchantment would allow her to blend in with her surroundings, just like a chameleon.

When cast properly, you'd have to focus really hard to see the wizard.

She could hear sounds of running and metal clashing.

A dark mass of armoured warriors was getting nearer, going in the same direction she'd been a few minutes ago. She squinted, trying to understand what she was seeing.

 _...What on Earth is this?_

These creatures looked like nothing she had ever seen. They might have had a roughly human shape, but Olympe understood very quickly that these weren't humans - much taller and much more solidly built than men, their legs and arms were thicker. Each of them carried armours and weapons.

Those were the most disgustingly grotesque things she'd ever laid eyes on. Their mouths were too large, twisted with yellow fangs that went over their lips. Their skin was dark and oily, their small mean eyes disturbingly far apart.

If she had asked one of her little brothers to draw her a monster like a cross between a troll and a grindylow, she would have gotten something close to this. And that was without mention of the sickening smell they carried: a foul smell of mould, sweat and flesh in decay.

 _Those here have probably never heard of_ _soap_ , she thought, wrinkling her nose.

It reminded Olympe of that time she'd had to clean a humid room in the dungeon, one Filch hadn't opened in over fifteen years. She'd found a two dozens dead rats, some of them still decomposing.

Well, that here came close - only worse. Feeling sick, she finally tore her gaze away from them and tried making herself smaller, praying her chameleon spell would hold, that they wouldn't find her.

There seemed to be about fifty of them and they were marching fast. She caught sight of two children with fair curls hanging to the back of two of these monsters.

Then they were out of sight.

Terrified they would still discover her, Olympe stayed stone-like on the rocks for a good ten extra minutes before getting up. And though they were gone, she could still smell them.

Maybe she should lock herself in her bag and cast an invisibility spell until an Auror came to get her.

 _But what if a creature like those finds the bag and… I am not even sure I'd fit in it._

Crap. There really were no other words to describe the situation.

* * *

There you go, a rather short first chapter but no worries, things are just getting started.

I hope you enjoyed it, I had fun translating it. Please don't hesitate telling me what you think in the comments, I'll be glad to share it with Lynn and answer.

PS: Thank you Lulu, for correcting me and britishing the words up!


	2. Dreams & Ears

Reminder : Except Olympe and her close ones, I don't own anything, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling and J. R. R. Tolkien.

Enjoy !

* * *

 **II**

 _I'll send an SOS to the world_

Because of recent events, a change of direction was necessary.

Therefore, Olympe decided to go the same way she'd come - to lower the chances of running into the monsters she'd just seen. Still, she walked a little away from the road and sang to keep herself going.

 _I hope that someone gets my_

 _I hope that someone gets my message in a bottle…._

All she could hope for was that if they had been fleeing something, it wasn't the same thing in a XXL size.

But the pain in her feet grew sharper, first causing her to limb then later forcing her to stop. She sat down in the high grass, thirty feet from the trail. Close enough to watch the path and far enough to be out of sight in case of danger.

She opened her thermos and breathed in the delicious aroma of (last night's) coffee - still warm thanks to magic. She poured herself a cup and gulped it down, feeling herself come alive, enjoying the warmth spreading through her, chasing away the cold.

She then looked at her feet. Even though she had stopped walking, the ache was still as sharp. Taking off her sock, she felt a sort of resistance. She decided to rip it off in one quick gesture and screamed in pain. The skin of several blisters stuck to the piece of cloth had gotten torn away, leaving about half of her foot bare and bloody.

With tears in her eyes, she took out her grimoire and looked for the deep injuries charm.

 _vulnera sanenture_

She'd never gotten that spell right but this time she had no choice. She read out the words three time, moving her wand over the wound. Once again, her healer's abilities weren't dazzling. The injury was very much still there, under a layer of dried blood. It wasn't bare anymore but she couldn't walk anymore.

She went through the same with her left feet and then set about cleaning all of her stuff with fast Scouring Charms. Once her socks were white again, - having checked before that there was no pervert lurking about with a little _hominum revelio -_ she tried casting the charm on herself and got a nice result.

Now she smelled good and her clothes were clean, what more could she wish for?

« A pair of shoes, perhaps? » whispered a little voice in her head.

After eating a good part of her chocolate frogs and expanded her card collection, she used the spell of Bluebells flames (taught to her by her friend Morgan) in her jar, to warm herself up. This way, she avoided revealing her position to all the neighbouring creatures and enjoyed a soft glow.

But the sun sank, the temperature with it and the cold started creeping back despite her blue fire. Soon she was shaking with fear in the intensifying darkness. Still no word from the Aurors. Hopefully they were looking for her right now.

Morgan and Lisa must have been so worried… not to mention her mother and her little brothers.

 _What am I doing here..._

She opened her grimoire again, this time on a page with a lot of pictures showing people moving, smiling and waving at her. Lisa, Morgan and her on their last trip to Hogsmeade. On the left, Lisa, her smile beautiful, pushing the too large glasses - she'd inherited from her mom - up her nose and Morgan, on the right, with her tan skin and small turned-up nose and there, in the middle, Olympe with her wild curly hair pulled up in a messy bun. She'd looked at each of her friends then pulled them to her side, turning her big blue eyes to the camera.

Tears started stinging her eyes again. Her fingers made their way to her left feet and started scratching.

 _No, don't, it will tear off the crusts._

On another photograph, two twins with red curls - barely five year olds - were beaming at her with toothless smiles, the one on the right sneezing from time to time. Will and Peter, her little brothers. She let the tip of her fingers glide across their faces, tears flowing down her cheeks.

On the next page was a picture of the whole family, taken on Christmas Eve, three years ago. Olympe stood proudly, surrounded by her parents and Peter in her arms (back when he was small enough to be carried), sobbing because he had already broken his new toy.

Her eyes went over each of her family members. She was trying to memorize every single detail, as if it were the last time she was seeing them.

Here, her grandparents hugging and looking into each other's eyes, there, her uncle making fun of his older brother's (her dad) behind his back, her aunt raising her glass to the camera and there, Willian trying to lift their cat, Mystic, off the ground – then giving up and sitting down next to him. She even noticed Peter's mismatched socks, put on in a rush that evening before going to celebrate the Eve at their grandparents' house. They had barely made it to the Portkey in time.

And her folk guitar, brand new out of its gift wrapping. A gorgeous Yamaha FG 300 that Josh, a friend of her dad and the owner of a music shop had picked up on a trip to Japan a few months before the picture had been taken. The flowery pickguard, the elegant curves and the fineness of the handle almost gave a sense of femininity to the shape.

The instrument had caught her eye the first time she'd seen it and she had spent all of the holidays at the store practicing with it, harassing Josh to put it aside for her until she'd spared the money to buy it.

That year, when she had gone back home for the Christmas holidays, Josh had said that he'd sold it. She had felt her heart ripping in two and had barely spoken to anyone the following days. Then on Christmas Eve, she'd seen the shape of her wrapped-up present and immediately understood. Her superb guitar had never really been gone.

And they were beautiful, the whole of them, in their Christmassy coloured sweaters that their grandma had knitted herself and the pretty lit-up tree in the background. Back then, her life had so perfect. Four months later, her dad had been murdered by a death-eater and her mom had never been herself again since. Her grandparents had been killed some time after.

How she longed for them all. She should be by their side, not in this strange place!

She tucked her knees under her chin, the warm jar against her belly and closed her eyes. She thought of her mother, picturing herself curled up against her and her long hair tickling her nose. She tried remembering her perfume and the comforting feeling of being held by her.

But she could only feel that icy wind cutting through her clothes, ripping Olympe's gentle wishful thoughts away and replacing them with desperation and unbearable loneliness.

She burst in tears, failing to suppress her shaking. The wounds were so itchy she wished she could tear her feet off.

Alone, at the mercy of the cold in a valley constantly swept by an artic wind. _My kingdom for a horse, right?_ She easily would have traded all of her Every Flavour Beans for a shelter.

When the first rays of sunshine lit the landscape, she had to acknowledge she'd gone through a sleepless night. For hours, she had kept herself from scratching her feet while enduring visions of being surrounded by giant spiders, werewolves or the reeking monsters she'd come across the day before. She noticed that this time, none of her stuff was wet with dew.

She took out Lisa's makeup bag and found a blush palette with a small mirror. Holy hell! Even after a night out she looked livelier than now! She was quite a sight: Her usually laughing eyes were circled with black, her cheeks were hollow and her unruly blond hair had turned to a colourless mess. Her lips were dry and crackled, cut by the wind, pulling and seemingly about to break. She was in miserable shape.

She set about fixing her hair before it started turning into one big dreadlock. She used the tiny comb from her friend's pouch and a lot of untangling spells.

Olympe had always hated brushing her hair. She'd always been envious of girls like her mom, with sleek shiny hair that looked put together in thirty seconds. With magic's help, she needed about thirty minutes. The good side of things was that she'd inherited her mother's beautiful colour. She's never enjoyed the unruliness she'd gotten from her father.

When she was through with brushing it, she tied her hair in a bun on top of her head. A few rebellious strands still decided to slip out and tumble down her forehead – it would do for now.

She tried getting up but the pain was too intense. _Madam Pomfrey would have healed this in the blink of an eye._

She started on a liquorice wand then spread out exhausted on the ground.

⁂

A dream… yes, it had all been a dream! It was obvious now, because she was cosily huddled in her bed, in her warm and beautiful dormitory. After laughing about her overboard imagination, she noticed her friend Morgan sleeping tight in her day clothes, sprawled out on her front over the covers, her head sunk into the pillow.

 _Huh? She kept on her shoes._

She called her friend in a quiet voice, trying not to disturb anyone else. Morgan woke up, yawned and slowly lifted her head but it wasn't her friend's eyes staring at her, it was the face of one of the monstrous creatures she's seen the day before, a sadistic smile twisting its already distorted features and bearing its yellow fangs.

Olympe tried getting out of under her blanket but they seemed to grapple onto her, keeping her prisoner. Cold sweat slid down the back of her neck. She couldn't breathe anymore, as if something was sitting on her ribcage. The monster that had taken her friend's place got up and drew nearer, seeming to enjoy the fear in her eyes, the terror spreading through her and paralyzing her. It opened its mouth to speak:

\- iss!

 _What?_

She struggled against her binding covers.

\- iss!

 _What the hell?_

She tried screaming but her voice was stuck in the back of her throat. Something was shaking her. She opened her eyes.

\- Miss!

So out of breath it felt like she'd just ran a marathon, she breathed in long gulps of air. A nightmare, it'd just been a nightmare! All she could see was a golden halo and two blue dots above her. Shaking like a leaf, she could feel a warm grip on her shoulders. Her vision cleared up.

 _Mom?_

\- Miss, are you alright?

No, it wasn't her mother… She'd rarely seen as beautiful a person in her life, except maybe when she was in second year and Fleur Delacour came to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. But that girl had had Veela blood… and when it came to her mother, she probably wasn't fair…

 _Wait... Wait! A person?!_

 _I'm in a someone's arms!_

 _Someone is holding me!_

Her eyes opened wider with shock and her mouth formed a surprised O. Which must have made her look very smart…

She stayed like that for a few seconds, staring at the stranger who'd just addressed her and decided it must be a man.

 _He asked something, didn't he? I have to give an answer..._

 _Bloody hell, don't just stare at him wide-eyed, answer!_

 _Wait, what did he ask again?_

« - Aragorn! », he called to someone who must have stood further away, « A young woman! » Turning to Olympe, he added: « Do not worry, we won't hurt you. »

Great, now she was starting to panic. It was always the psychopaths that said this sort of thing: Don't worry child, I won't hurt you, I'll give you Pumpkin Pasties. Come, follow me, there's plenty in the back room!

Too much information, too much questions were circling in Olympe's brain. Who was he? Where was she? What was the date? What time was it? Where was the closest town? Were they wizards or muggles? Eww! Was it her breath she was smelling right now?

« - Are you alright? » the stranger asked again.

Automatically, her eyes turned to her smarting feet. Traces of blood on her socks lead to think she had scratched and ripped the scabs off during her sleep.

« - Your feet? », the blond man asked, following her gaze.

With his head angled away, Olympe noticed the fine braids framing his face. He really was of a startling beauty. A soft, reassuring aura seemed to surround him. Maybe he had Veela blood after all. But a singular detail caught her attention: his ears, they were… pointy.

Curious, while he was focused on her feet, she reached out and lightly brushed one ear with her fingertips. He swiftly turned to her, surprise painted all over his traits. Olympe was just as astounded as he was, firstly to see the ears weren't implants, secondly to have been caught touching a stranger's ear. She blushed furiously and started stammering on apologies. As an answer, he simply offered her a serene smile. And maybe there was a glint of light amusement in his eyes.

A man wearing dirty and torn clothes approached. He must have been Aragorn. He was tall with blue eyes, dark hair and an untidy beard. Next to Mr Pointy Ears, he actually looked like a homeless person.

 _Have you seen yourself?_ her inside voice asked.

They started talking in a foreign language. Olympe had never heard anything like it. A singsong delicate tongue, maybe Italian? No, if it were, she would have recognized a few words.

Lastly, the ho.., well, Aragorn kneeled next to her, observing her clothes with a disapproving air. She would have felt the same if she'd been walking around in her panties. Then, he turned his gaze to her feet.

 _Are those the main event today or what?_

« - May I? », he asked.

She searched Mr Pointy Ears eyes, who smiled encouragingly at her.

« Just so you're know, they're not a pretty sight. », she warned him while taking off her right sock.

As she'd feared, she'd scratched her foot during the night. The scabs the charm had helped form hung on either side of her feet. He gently took her ankle to examine the wound.

A man whose face was half-covered with a shaggy beard came into sight, huffing loudly. Seeing him, Olympe was immediately reminded of Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at her school, shrunk to the size of Professor Flitwick. He looked at her with a stunned expression, opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it and sat down.

« - What happened to you? », inquired Aragorn with a worried frown.

« - I have no idea, I don't even know where I am. », answered Olympe, her breaths short.

« - You are on the lands of Rohan, a few walking days away from Edoras, the hill fort of King Theoden and on the road leading to Isengard. »

« - Where? », she asked again, thinking she'd maybe heard it all wrong.

« - On the lands of Rohan. »

The three men exchanged a disbelieving look. Still in the blond man's arms, Olympe felt despair darken her face.

At last, Pointy Ears spoke again:

« - Where did you come from, Miss? », he asked, holding her tight as if to steady her.

« - Oxford. My family is from Oxford but I go to a school in the Highlands... in Scotland, » she explained, noticing their surprise. « England… don't you know Great Britain? »

 _Where the hell is this place? Even my slightly backward American pen pal knows England. Though she can't find it on a map…_

« - We know none of the places you just mentioned. » answered Aragorn.

« - Are you kidding me? Is that it? You're messing with me, right? »

Angrily, Olympe tried pulling away from the blond man.

« Is this a joke to you? »

She turned around, gathering all of her things like a madwoman, muttering to herself. « Yes, it's a prank, it's only a prank, or a spell… yes, it must be a trick. »

« - Miss », Aragorn started, but she ignored him, still talking to herself and packing her stuff in a trance.

« It must be those scumbags from Slytherins… probably Raynolds… she picks on me the most. An illusion... It's all in my head… » her vision blurred slightly « Nobody dresses like that anymore… It's an illusion... »

She burst into tears and crumpled to the ground in a foetus position, her bag pressed against her chest. The three men threw one another incredulous looks and Aragorn kneeled next to her, grabbing her shoulders to force her to meet his eyes.

« - Miss, I don't know where you're came from but we're going to help you as much as we can. You just need to explain to me what's happening to you. My name is Aragorn and my companions here are Legolas and Gimli », he said, indicating his acolytes.

She kept quiet, concentrating hard to stop her crying and taking deep breaths. She dried the last of her tears on her sleeve.

She cleared her throat and started talking:

« - I was at school, with my friends. You see, we like to go for a walk at night... », under? their perplexed expressions she quickly added: « wait, it's the word 'school' that confuses you ? » They nodded.

 _Are they idiots or what? What world do they live in?_

She spoke again:

« It's a place where children gather to get an education, where they're taught to read or count… or even history and geography. So, I was at school and at night, with my friends, we like to walk around in the castle… yes, the school is a castle » she pointed out to make sure they were still following « and we got back to our dormitory really late, went to bed... and I woke up here. I walked all day yesterday to meet someone. » She finished with a disheartened countenance.

The trio scrutinized her, obviously wondering if she wasn't just point blank crazy. But they had to admit that they'd never seen clothes like hers.

« - You said a few minutes ago that someone might have cast a spell on you. Did you get in trouble with a wizard or a sorcerer? »

« - What? I- I said that? » she started panicking again.

« - Listen up, Miss » growled Gimli with a menacing air, « I really hope for your sake you're not one of Saruman's spies… if you are, you're in a really bad position! »

« - Who? No, no, no stop - I don't even know who that is. » responded Olympe with indignation.

« - You can never be too careful, young lady! »

« - She seems to be telling the truth » intervened Pointy Ears.

« - Saruman is an Istari, the head of the Wizards sent by the Valar to help the Free People fight against the forces of darkness. But he has betrayed us to side with the Mordor. » explained Aragorn.

The only thing that had caught Olympe's attention was the word 'wizards'.

« - Wizards? »

« - Yes. »

« - So… these sorcerers, they do magic? »

« - One of our companions was an Istari. » added the blond, ignoring her question.

« - Yes, but did he do magic? » insisted Olympe, worried.

« - Of course he did magic. » grumbled mini-Hagrid.

« - We don't call them Wizards for nothing. » replied Aragorn with a kind simple.

She looked at them, puzzled.

A wizard… in the worst-case scenario, it would only be an insane muggle but if they were talking about a real wizard, this could mean her going home.

« - Good, » she finally voiced, in a lighter tone, « which way is it to the wizard's house? »

« - Are you asking to go to Saruman? » asked Aragorn, baffled.

« - I don't think I got here through divine intervention. I'm curious about your wizard. »

« - You would get killed before setting a foot in Isengard! » laughed mini-Hagrid.

« - You do not know me, I am perfectly able to defend myself. I can protect myself. » she insisted.

 _They don't believe me..._

« - You did seem very vulnerable when I found you a while ago. » remarked the blond in a lecturing tone.

« - Would you have had the time to defend yourself, if an Orc had found you first? » asked Gimli with a mocking voice.

« - Pardon? »

« - Maybe we should take care of that wound. » suggested Aragorn, pointing to Olympe's feet, wisely changing the subject.

⁂

Out of his pockets, he took strips of cloth and a metal bow filled with a curious green mixture that he started spreading over the injury. Almost instantly, the dreadful itch was replaced with a pleasurably cool sensation. She sighted with relief and let her head fall back while he got started on the second foot and said to her:

« - You know our names, but we do not know yours, my young friend. »

« - You're right. I'm Olympe. Olympe MacLewis. Pleased to meet you. »

That was a lie, she wasn't pleased, she'd just said that out of politeness and habit. She would have really loved to never meet them. She would much rather have been cosily tucked in her bed at Hogswarts, the worst thing being her approaching Potions exam.

She thanked Aragorn who had just finished bandaging her feet, then inquired:

« - What is an Orc? »

« - They are vile creatures sent from the Mordor that do Sauron's bidding, aiming to end mankind. Actually, we are on the trail of a troop of Uruk'hai, a species of Orc. They took two of our friends. »

Immediately, Olympe remembered the two small persons she'd seen on the back of the monsters the day before.

« - I saw them… I think I saw the group you're talking about! Yesterday, I saw armed monsters. I am not sure about your friends... but I think I saw them carrying children. »

« - There is no time to lose, » declared Aragorn to Legolas with a determined look on his face « we have to be on our way. »

Legolas threw Olympe a side glance, asking his friend a silent question. Once more, they started talking that strange tongue. She didn't have to be a genius to know they were talking about her. Not daring to look at them, Olympe stared at her feet.

If she hadn't been injured, she could have come along but in this specific situation, she was a dead weight. This made her feel terribly uncomfortable. She had only just met people she could call kind and now they had to leave her to go save their friends from grave danger – because she couldn't stand on her own two feet.

What would she have done if it was her? If her friends were in mortal danger, what would she do? She stopped wondering, the answer too painful and obvious to accept.

They didn't even know her, why would they help her? They didn't owe her anything. Despite this she still felt a sting, imagining them walking away – her on the ground, supplication written in her eyes.

She tried peeking up at them discreetly but Legolas's grave eyes were locked on her, catching her gaze as soon as she'd lifted it. Embarrassed, she stared at her feet again. She felt frustrated and excluded, as if she'd been too fragile or not smart enough to hear what they were saying about her.

She felt pathetic, inside and out. Her last option was pleading. But her pride forbade her – she was still a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake! She had to act proud.

Maybe if she told them she was a resourceful witch with a hundred ways to make their lives easier, they would reconsider. She was about to speak up for herself when Gimli put hand on her shoulder.

« - I will say this now my friend », he grumbled angrily to Aragorn, « I may not understand what you and Pointy Ears are saying, but leaving this girl behind is sentencing her to death. Killing her yourself would be more merciful. I'll carry her on my back if I have to but I will not leave her here! »

Olympe was touched by the imp's speech. She threw a grateful look in his direction but refrained from embracing him. A reassuring smile turned his lips up at the corners, bringing dimples to his pink cheeks.

« - Have no worries, master dwarf, » started Aragorn, « we were roughly saying the same. »

The three men shared a smile. Aragorn took off his heavy travel cape and draped it around Olympe's shoulders. Warmth spread through her instantly.

« - Climb on my back », he urged, kneeling.

« - Are you certain? I'm not weightless, you know. »

« - Do not worry, I've endured much worse. »

« - How can I thank you? » asked Olympe as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

« - Thank me later, we have to hurry now. »

As soon as it was settled, the group started walking – or rather, running. The strong wind kept blowing the mantle's hood off her face and looking behind, she could see Legolas calling encouragements to Gimli who had trouble keeping up. At each of Aragorn's steps, she had taken care not to hit his shoulder with her jaw.

She found herself wishing for a broom, whichever one. Even her dad's old Shooting Star – slow and uncomfortable – would have done the trick…

* * *

There you go, another chapter.

Note that this one is twice the size of the first one.

The translation is far from perfect, it's hard minding the tone/the level of speech at all times.

It's not always the literal translation because I try to make this version as natural-sounding as possible and do my best to not use the same words over and over again.

I have a lot fun finding out equivalents for what Lynn writes in French and I will keep at it.

So, what do you think of the trio's arrival and the turn of things? If you have comments and/or remarks, please don't hesitate to share them – at least you don't feel like you're writing to the wind.

It takes a minute and means the world.

You'll get the third chapter soon! Hope you have a great day.


	3. House Elves & Wizard Stories

Hi everyone !

Here's the new chapter of Olympe's Adventures in Middle Earth…

Little reminder :

This is the translation of a French fanfic. Here's the original text :

s/12242649/1/Blackbird

* * *

 **III**

They travelled all day, never slowing down. In a sense, Olympe was relieved. Because even uninjured, she would never have been able to keep up. This way, she avoided having to admit to not being able to run half a mile before collapsing of exhaustion.

At nightfall, Aragorn decided a break was necessary. They all needed to rest and eat. Olympe was offered the green ointment again and she bandaged her wounds anew. The untguent was really effective. Her skin was growing back well, without any itch.

Although she had not run herself, her legs were painful. Sitting down next to the dwarf, she took several sweets out of her bag and arranged them in front of her on the ground, feeling Gimli's intrigued gaze on her.

\- You really are astounding, young lady » he said, scrutinizing the colourful packages.

\- Do you want some ? she offered, shyly handing him a Cauldron Cake.

Without answering, he accepted it and started examining it suspiciously.

\- You are not trying to poison me, are you ? », he asked with a laugh.

\- Don't worry, it's just a chocolate sponge cake with fruit in the middle. » she explained, starting on a Sugar Quill.

He took a tiny bite and stared at her, eyes wide with shock before devouring it in a blink. He sighed in contentment and she giggled.

\- This is delicious ! What do you call it, again ? he asked excitedly, yet whispering as if he did not want the two others to hear him.

\- Cauldron Cakes, she replied in the same hushed tone.

Aragorn and Legolas who had been conversing a little further away then drew near, looking intrigued. They observed the bright wrappings with interest and she invited them to taste the sweets.

\- You come from a strange world, indeed. », summed up Aragorn, biting a licorice wand. Legolas nodded, agreeing with his friend but too busy chewing on a caramel.

\- Yours is just as strange to me. »

Gimli wanted to try everything and marvelled at each treat he savoured. Despite Olympe's warnings, he insisted on trying Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and did end up spitting a few of them out after having swallowed some tasteful ones. Legolas did not dare take any when the girl offered and the imp snickered smugly : « Ha ! This elf will not break even with a dwarf ! »

\- Elf ?! asked a baffled Olympe.

\- Well of course, why did you think Pointy Ear's ears were pointy ? » answered Gimli nonplussed. Under the girl's perplexed gaze, he added :

\- Are there no elves where you come from ?

\- No… well, yes ! We have house elves.. but… but they look nothing like him !

The trio stared at her questionningly. For a moment she was lost for words. Then she blurted:

\- They're small creatures that serve the old illustrious families ! They're thin, dressed in rags, with big eyes and ears. They're freed from enslavement when given proper clothing. » she explained with fast mimicking gestures.

Gimli burst out laughing and roared :

\- Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! Your elves must be better companions !

\- Here, elves are like Legolas, people on whom time and illness have no hold. stated Aragorn.

\- You're immortal ? inquired Olympe, fascinated.

\- I am, repplied Legolas with a small smile.

\- I thought you had Veela ancestry, she breathed.

\- Pardon ?

\- Veelas... They have a human appearance but they bewitch men. Fleur Delacour, the granddaughter of a Veela visited my school once for a tournament... That was five years ago. She was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen.

\- Thank you.

She blushed furiously and quickly closed her mouth. Of course she had not meant for it to sound so flattering. It was quite the compliment, actually. Damn her pale skin that flushed so easily ! This was just what she needed, she who already spoke out her mind too easily. As if she was not forward enough already !

\- Beauty is a distinctive trait of elves. That is why we call them the Fair Folk. added Aragorn.

An incongruous thought popped in the young girl's head.

\- By the way, do elves here also punish themselves when they think they've done something wrong ? she giggled but her laughter was cut short when she caught her companions ' shocked looks. Sorry. Afriend of mine has one, Qwilty. Once I saw it trying to shear off its own toes because it couldn't find its mistresses scarf. And it would have done so if we hadn't stopped it. She pictured the scene and a horrified expression painted itself on her face, spreading soon on to the faces of the three men. I shouldn't have said that…

To avoid saying anything else she might regret, she busied herself with finding her thermos bottle in her bag and emptying it mournfully on the grass. Even magic could not keep coffee fresh after two days and two nights. Spells had their limits. She would have liked to clean the bottle with a _Scourgify_ but she would have to wait to be on her own for that.

Aragorn offered her a brioche-like food. He explained it was Lambas, an elfic bread with incredible nutritional value.

It did not taste very different from ordinary soft bread but she was full after only a small bite.

The few moments of rest felt far too short to Olympe. She packed her things again and put her wand in her bag with the other items to avoid attracting attention to it. Her backpack weighed a good deal less now that the thermos was empty. Maybe the fact that they had feasted on a large portion of her sweets had something to do with it as well.

She stood on her knees, ready to climb on Aragorn's back but Legolas came to get her.

\- If you do not mind, I will take over.

 _Lucky that night has fallen_ , thought Olympe, flushed scarlet. She had made a fool of herself too many times with him already. She had touched his ears, compared him with a Veela then wih a house elf. Nevermind that, she was a champion for staring at him. Like she was right now.

He was still waiting for an answer, his questionning gaze on her. He must have thought her a total retard!

\- No, of course I don't mind, she stuttered quickly, coming to her senses.

\- Can you take off your purse?

She did so incredulously. He took it and strapped it on sideways. Before she could realize what was happening he had kneeled down, placed one hand under her knees, the other around her back and gotten back up in a flash.

Caught off guard, Olympe held on to his neck, refraining with difficulty from squeaking.

\- I would have carried you on my back like Aragorn did but my bow and quiver would make that unconfortable.

 _Wow. It's the first time he's said that many words to me._

\- But you'll never manage to run this way ! ...Even if you could, it's much more tiring !

Although he did not smile, there seemed to be a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

\- You seem to forget that as an elf, I am much stronger than a man. Do not worry, you are very light.

Had he just made a joke ? Should she laugh ? Nevertheless, this compliment pleased her much more that she let show.

He and Aragorn were hard to understand. She may have managed to kid around and get to know Gimli a little but with those two it was a whole other story.

Trying to start up a discussion with them was a real challenge. When she asked anything, their answers were always short and final. She never knew what to say to keep the conversation going.

She had spent the whole day on Aragorn's back, barely ever saying a thing. With the elf it would most likely be worse, especially since her brain seemed to freeze whenever she was with him.

The troup took off again and Olympe had to admit this position was a lot more comfortable than Aragorn's back had been. Legolas's strides were more fluid and somehow softer.

Even so, the wind whipping her face was threatening to give her a heavy headache. With her free hand, she pulled the hood of the traveling cape over her eyes. Luckily it stayed in place this time, her head not directly facing the wind.

Minutes went by, Olympe resting her head on her arm around the elf's neck. Gingerly, she linked her hands behind his neck, checking his face for signs of discontent but finding none.

Legolas did not seem to be paying her much attention so she took the opportunity to observe him. She had not gotten the chance to do so before, since each time she tried to look at him he caught her eye in a flash. As if he felt her gaze on him. Furthermore, when he watched at her she felt as though her mind was transparent to him and it made her uneasy. Maybe he was a Legilimens, maybe he actually could read her thoughts.

He was beautiful, it was undeniable, even thought the word ''beautiful'' felt a little reductive. Rather than the symmetry or the fineness of his traits, there was something else, something so extremely attractive that the more she stared the slower her brain worked.

 _Like with Veelas..._

Since there was nothing else to look at other than Legolas's face, she closed her eyes. At least, this way there was no risk that he would catch her gazing at him.

He smelled of forests, wet earth. It reminded her of the scent in Hogwarts' park whenever it rained. It was soothing. She snuggled closer, her head feeling heavier by the second, lulled to sleep by Legolas's warmth and his calm stride.

–-

White.

Everything was white, she was surrounded in it. In this milky sea of light, she could make out the outline of a silhouette in an ivory dress, with long flowing blond hair and forget-me-not eyes coming closer with open arms, whispering her name.

… _Olympe…_

That voice, she knew it…

… _Olympe…_

 _Wait, this is…_

\- MUM!

She ran as fast as her legs could take her, tears streaming down her cheeks. After what felt like far too long she threw herself in her mother arms and held on to her.

\- Oh Mum ! Mum, I was so scared ! I missed you so much !

The beautiful woman did not answer anything, she just tightened her hold on her daughter, caressing her hair. This time, Olympe could feel her warmth surrounding her and her long fine hair slipping through her fingers, could smell her bergamot and jasmine perfume.

\- Mum... I want to go home….she pled, drenching her mother's dress with tears.

She craddled Olympe's face in both her hands, wiped her tears and laid a kiss on her forehead.

\- Don't worry sweety, her voice like an echo, both close and far. At the side of Isildur's heir, you have absolutely nothing to fear. He will protect you. Find the white Magician, he can help you.

Her voice resonated in her mind. Olympe let her lids fall and burried her face against the woman's neck.

\- No ! I wanna stay with you, she cried, gripping unto the white cloth of the dress, holding more strongly on to her.

\- I will do what I can to find you… but until then you will have to keep being the brave young woman you have always been. You will find your way. If ever you are lost in darkness, remember, you know the spell to call the light.

\- Mum…. No ! MUUUUUUM !

Opening her eyes, this time, it was not her mother's arms she was craddled in but those of the impassive Legolas. Her head was snuggled against his neck, his arm around her back, some of his hair caught in her fists.

 _Whoops_.

She pulled away immediately, blushing scarlet. Legolas's percing eyes were as dispassionate as ever as they lowered to meet hers.

\- I… I'm sorry… I… didn't mean to…. She stuttered. He remained expressionless.

 _Great._

\- You were dreaming of your mother ? He asked after a long silence.

\- How did you know ? She asked incredulously.

\- You called out to her a few times in your sleep.

\- Oh. Yes, she admitted, lowering her head, her eyes glazing over with sadness, I dreamt I was seeing her again. It felt...so real. I'm sorry for what I did...It must have been annoying, you shoud have woken me.

\- Do not worry about it. Dreams can carry us a lot further than we imagine. And I would not interrupt your reunion with your mother.

In that moment, her mother's strange words came back to her : ''Find the Magician''. She could remember all she had seen in the dream but none of what she had heard. None other than ''find the Magician''.

\- Do you know of anyone called ''the Magician'' ? She shot back.

Never had she seen the elf face show so much surprise.

\- Of course. There are five Magicians, one of whom was part of the Fellowship.

\- Could I meet him?

\- Mithrandir was taken by the Moria's darkness… He died.

\- But… it can't be...

\- I thought you did not know our world, he challenged with a suspicious look.

\- Hum… In my dream, my mother talked… she talked about a magician…

He stopped running and this time he was the one starring at her in earnest. What had she said, again ?

\- I do not know what you are imagining right now but I am telling you the truth. I feel that you are hiding something important from us.

 _Crap_. Yes. Technically speaking, she was just concealing the fact that she was a witch. Which she would have done anywhere, with anyone. But her mother had mentioned a ''Magician'' that they all seemed to know. Which might have meant that magic was known to all here.

 _But it was just a dream..._

\- What is magic to you ? She asked him.

\- Magic is everywhere in this world, he replied bewildered, in the trees, the stars and in all the races linked to Arda. The elves and the Istari have magic, under different forms.

\- So if I asked you to do a magic trick for me, right here, right now, you'd be able to ?

 _That story is shady._

\- Of course not. This is not what I meant. We elves feel nature. The wind brings us the whispers of the trees. We read omens. We are much more resistant and can heal of an injury that would kill a man. We also have a sharper sight which allows us to handle weapons more skillfully than men.

 _Huh. Is his head swelling or what ?_

She had the sudden urge to take out her wand and perform a _Patronus_ just to shut him up.

 _Haha, I'd love to see his reaction… But... it would not be proper…. At least not yet._

She still had that advantage, they were not aware that she could do magic and it would be better to reveal that once she was certain to be safe. What if with that knowledge, they decided to abandon her or worse, burn her at the stake. It would be smarter to keep that information to herself until she was able run. Just in case.

Legolas observed the surroundings before setting Olympe down on a rock. With regret, she took her arm of his shoulder. It felt like winter times in the Hogwarts dormitories when she left her warm and cozy blankets to go battle the cold. He took off her leather bag and put it next to her. She thanked him and he answered with a nod.

Only a few seconds ticked by until they were joined by Aragorn. Once more, they exchanged words in their strange langage. That did not leave Olympe with anything other to do than to admire the landscape. The moon rode lower in the sky, the stars were slowly disappearing.

Finally Gimli arrived and leaned on his axe like on a crutch, panting. She took a Cauldron Cake out of her purse and handed it to him.

\- The Valar sent you, child, he said, accepting the treat and settling down next to her.

\- I have only three left and you can be certain that the last one's yours, she laughed.

They watched Aragorn and Legolas debating while eating the cakes.

\- Do you understand what they are saying ? Olympe inquired between bites.

\- They are talking in Sindarin. My ancesters would turn in their graves if I started speaking the tongue of the Elves.

\- Don't you feel left out when they do that ?

\- Oh yes, I do. But, and I mean no offense young lady, they have only been doing this since you arrived.

A wave of dissappointment hit Olympe. They did not trust her.

\- Do not worry. Aragorn is the best man I know and Legolas… well, he seemed at a loss for words for a bit but finished his sentence with an air of confidence, he… he is not that bad for an elf. Do not tell him I said that ! He added hurriedly.

\- My lips are sealed !

She contained with effort the huge grin threatening to split her face then became serious again.

\- This might sound strange but I feel like times aren't very good here right now. Am I wrong ?

\- Oh, no, you are right and it is a rather long story.

\- I think we have some time ahead of us anyway, she replied, giving Aragorn and Legolas a side-glance.

\- Well… A dark lord is trying to destroy and submit the people throught ceaseless wars. One ring with unprecedented powers is seeked for by his master, the terrible Sauron. Creatures of darkness wish to end mankind… I think I can sum it up in a word: War.

\- The designation ''dark lord'' sure seems to be particularly appreciated by megalomaniac psychopaths.

\- You have known many wars in your world ?

She nodded.

\- Well… there have been a lot of wars in my world, but my people have always stood a little on the side…there aren't that many of us compared to the rest of the world, we blend in as discreetly as we manage. We are to eccentric for them, I guess, she added amused, gazing up at the stars. In this sort of situation, a support system has to be instituted.

But then… fourty years ago, a war started because a very powerful man, whose name some people are still scared to say out loud nowadays. Because of ideas about blood, every person from our community viewed as unpure by him and his fanatics was hunted down by them. There were murders, a lot of them, assassinations, disappeareances. But those fanatics, the Deatheathers, no one knew who they truly were, no one was aware of who exactly was part of that conspiracy. It could have been your neighbour, your friend, even a member of your family. Everybody suspected everybody, no one talked… and everyone was so scared. Moreover, they didn't stop at our community, they even attacted innocent people, unaware of our existence. A lot of us took refuge in Hogwarts – my school. It was the safest place there was, because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named feared Albus Dumbledore, the old Headmaster. Those were the times of the great terror, some of the most dreadful times my people ever went through. It lasted for eleven years.

\- How did it end ? Inquired Gimli, truly concerned.

\- You-Know-Who, she answered, emphazising the syllables to make it more obvious who she meant, was in a sort of … accident and he disappeared. All his followers fled, some were caught and ended up in prison. Without a leader, they were lost. Peace settled again.

Gimli looked at her hopefully but seeing her eyes glaze over with sadness, he waited for her to continue the story.

\- It did not last long. You-Know-Who, who everybody had believed to be dead came back fifteen years later, surrounded by his disciples. After the murder of the Headmaster, they infiltrated the Ministery, the school and took over the country. The nightmare started again. It lasted two years this time. The war ended with a final battle within the school.

\- Why go after children ?

\- It's strategic, she explained with a soft voice, by controlling the school and the children, you control the parents. If you didn't follow the rules, they'd go after your family. Plus, the most famous person to ever have stood up to You-Know-Who was Dumbledore and taking over the school was his revenge, while it allowed him to keep a close eye on the youth of my people.

Then one night, the Order of the Phoenix, the resistance, inflitrated the castle with the Chosen One, Harry Potter, the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord. With the help of the professors, they took back the scool and few hours later the Battle of Hogwarts broke out.

The Order gathered a lot of people to protect the school, as many as they could find. Most of the underage students were taken to a safe place but some stayed and fought. The Dark Lord's army was huge and there were a lot of deaths.

The fight lasted all night long. It was the ultimate battle. The next morning He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Voldemort, was beaten in single combat against Potter. The war ended… Oh ! she exclaimed, still gazing up, I hadn't noticed but even our stars are different.

Although Gimli had not understood all that she had said (the words ''Ministery'' and ''underaged'' did not mean a thing to him), he had understood most of it. And even if she took a step back to tell the tale, she had let it slip. She had included herself in the students. She had been there.

Olympe undid her bandages to survey her feet's state. She cleaned out the blisters and declared in an astounded voice :

\- It's healed !

It was not entireley healed, a few small crusts remained but it was nothing compared to how bad it had looked before. She gingerly put her foot on the ground. Not feeling any pain, she rose up lightning-fast, startling Gimli.

\- I can stand ! I can walk !

A smile the dwarf had never seen on her lit up the girl's whole face, her eyes twinkling with delight. Aragorn and Legolas had joined them without her noticing.

\- Seeing her smile is a lot nicer, isn't it ? Gimli asked his companions.

\- Oh thank you ! Thank you so much ! I don't know what I would've become without you !

\- That smile is worth all the world's thanks, answered Aragorn, taking her hands in his to pull her to a sitting position. But now you have to choose. We are following a party of Orcs and when we reach them, there will be a fight. It is a risk you take if you decide to come along.

\- The only other option I see is dying alone of hunger or cold, in a world I do not know. I know what my choice is. But will you have me ?

He grinned at her and asked her to follow him, leaving the two other men behind.

\- Do tell me, where have you heard of Magicians ?

\- Oh, well… she blushed, it was only a dream… I mean… I could have been delirious...

\- What did you see in this dream ?

\- My mother… she was telling me to find a magician, Olympe frowned as she tried hard to concentrate, she also mentioned an heir… and something about darkness and light… I think… that's all. I'm sorry.

Aragorn looked thoughtful for a while, his fingers tracing the outlines of the small white pendant around his neck.

\- My instincts tell me that our encounter was not sheer luck, young Olympe McLewis. Our journey will continue with you. We will reveal to you all about our quest in due time. I know traveling on my back is not as pleasant as being carried in the elf's arms but we have to go.

A few moments later they were taking off, Olympe once again holding on to Aragorn's shoulders. She tried to pull up her hood but, again, to no avail. The wind kept lashing her face. What she would have given for a warm beanie. Instead, she buried her nose in her scarf, with those colours she loved and the dark landscape unwinded before her eyes.

* * *

There you go ! Olympe is now officially part of the gang!

There isn't much action in this chapter but do not worry, that won't last.

Please tell me what you think in the comments, I still love reading your reactions.

So, I know I take forever translating my friend's fanfiction BUT I still love it, it's an honor and I will happily keep doing it. Thanks so much to Lulu for correcting and british-ing my translation.

Have a beautiful day and if it's still winter where you live, stay cozy !

Bye xo


	4. Divination & Misogyny

Dear readers, _Chapter 4_ is finally out!

You'll see, it is a event in this chapter that Lynn built her whole story on.

* * *

Comment responses :

Nosferatusophie : Haha, well « part of » means a little more, for now I would say that they tolerate her. ;) Thank you so much for your kind comment, you are actually the first to post a real, critical review on this fic. I feel like the english and french fandoms work differently, in that aspect. About Olympe's strength as a Griffondor, well, you'll see in what's coming…

Anyway, thanks to Klara who nicely translated your review so that I could answer it ! I hope you enjoy the chapters to come xoxo

* * *

(This is a draft translation of Chapter 4. Spelling mistakes, US-phrasing and poor expressions will be corrected by another friend, Lulu, in a final draft. That one is coming up in a few days. It's up too you to read it now or wait for next week's version.)

* * *

Now get youself a mug of sweet, steaming tea or coffee, cuddle up in your favorite armchair with your laptop or settle into your tube/bus seat (depends where you most often read fanfic) with your smartphone and ENJOY THE READ!

And, please review, tell us what you think!

* * *

This is the translation of a French fanfic.

Here is the original text : s/12242649/1/Blackbird

* * *

 **IV**

The night went on much more slowly than Olympe had expected it would. Legolas's long strides might have lulled her to sleep but it was an entirely different matter with Aragorn. His jolting pace and abrupt bounces were soon giving her an unpleasant sensation of nausea, not unlike Disapparating.

Her legs felt heavy and numb and the man carrying her could have used a bath. And a lot of soap….

The sun started chasing the night away with a stunning red glow and Legolas stopped dead in his tracks, looking up.

\- 'A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night.'

Olympe frowned, not knowing what she could say to that and waited awkwardly but the other two nodded and started walking again.

\- 'So, hum… it really doesn't take much for you to go off predicting bad news', she offered, her voice subtly tinged with irony.

\- 'Elves do not _go off_ foretelling dark omens lighty.' Aragorn answered outraged.

\- 'Yeah well at home we say ' _'Red sky at night means high hopes, Red sky at dawn and rain falls_.''... In England, where I come from, it pours approximately nine months out of twelve. If on each rainy day there were to be massacres, there wouldn't be many people left.

She sensed him smile. He seemed open to discussion and she decided to go on. He might not smell as nice as Legolas but he sure was better company.

\- 'In my world, divination is a chaotic, at best uncertain discipline. Our teacher only ever predicts bad luck or painful, premature deaths. Real clairevoyance gifts are extremely rare.

\- I understand your point of view, my friend. Nevertheless, I can assure you that elves are to be relied on.'

The young woman tried to suppress her smirk. A few times over the past day, she had noticed Legolas stopping to gaze at the landscape or stare at the sky with reverence, at things only he seemed to see. She had observed him without truly paying attention. But since she had noted this, she had to fight to keep a straight face whenever he demonstrated this odd behavior.

The young witch then pictured him wearing her divination teacher's enormous pair of glasses. She imagined his eyes widening as he read her hand and predicted an imminent tragedy. She could not help giggling as that vision filled her mind.

Then she envisioned him startling, turning around to face them (Trelawney's goggles still on) and letting out a desperate cry : _'' An apple just fell from that tree! A grandma must have gotten run over by a goat! ''_

As childish as that fantasy was, she burst out laughing almost violently and then had to repeatedly apologize to Aragorn for giving him a fright.

The sun was peaking in the sky when they reached a hill, giving way to open streches of grass and bordered by thick woods.

\- 'Riders ! 'cried Aragorn all of a sudden, 'Many riders on swift steeds are coming towards us!'

As Olympe focused, she could indeed make out a dark mass moving fast across the sea of green.

\- 'Yes', agreed the Elf, 'There are one hundred and five. All fair of hair and armed with spears. Their Leader is very tall.

\- Elf vision is much sharper than our's', indicated Aragorn to Olympe.

\- 'The riders are no more than five leagues away.' pointed out Legolas.

\- 'So what do we do ?' Olympe shot back, alarmed.

-'Five leagues or one,' interrupted Gimli,'we cannot escape them in this bare land. Shall we wait for them here or go on our way ?'

\- 'We will wait' decided Aragorn. 'I am weary and we still have not had any success in our search. Maybe others have before us. These horseen are riding back down the trail. We may get news from them.

\- Or spears,'replied Gimli.

\- 'There are three empty saddles, but I see no hobbits,' said Legolas.

\- 'Are they friends or enemies ?' asked Olympe as an uneasy Gimli inquired :

\- 'What do you know of these horsemen, Aragorn ? Do we sit here waiting for sudden death ?'

\- 'I have been among them. But I do not know what has happened here of late, nor in what mind the Rohirrim may now be between the traitor Saruman and the threat of Sauron. They have long been the friends of the people of Gondor, though they are not akin to them. At least they will not love the Ores.'

They slowly treaded downhill.

Olympe did her best to shake off the pins and needles in her legs. She stepped aside for a moment, putting a small slope between her and the others to cast a scouring charm of her self. She wrapped the bandages given by Aragorn around her socks, as a sustitute for shoes.

Her hair had been bound so tighly, it was starting to give her a migraine. She unwound it, letting her curls flow freely down her back and around her shoulders. She had never liked her hair and people had often teased her about it.

She made her way back to Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas who greeted her with baffled stares. That did not puzzle her in the least. Her curly mane often had that effect. Shortly, they started walking downhill again.

\- 'I must say, my young friend, that hair would make a good number of dwarf women green with envy.' told her Gimli.

Olympe smiled absently.

\- 'Are you mocking me ?' she asked, 'I've always been told that my hair's dreadful.'

\- 'I would never dare !'

\- 'Well, I would love to swop my hair for theirs. But I really don't believe they would stand dealing with that mane for more than two days.' she added, laughing.

The light mood of those few moments was quickly replaced by the apprehension of the arrival of the horsemen. No one seemed able to guess whether they would be met with greetings or swords. They settled at the foot of the hill in expectation, wrapped in their traveling cloaks. The young witch pulled her hood up. It was hard to tell which was the most unbearable, out of the waiting and the penetrating cold. Olympe busied herself loooking at her pictures and reading the list of spells that might come in handy if things went wrong. She gazed longingly at her guitare, nestled in a corner of her bag.

Sounds of hooves hitting the earth and cries echoed close and in a flash dozens of horses were galloping inches away from them. Olympe hurriedly to put her notebook away. The host had almost passed them when Aragorn called up in a loud voice :

\- 'What news from the North, Riders of Rohan ?'

With astonishing speed and skill they checked their steeds, wheeled and came charging round. Soon the four companions found themselves in a ring of horsemen moving in a running circle, up the hillslope behind them and down, round and round them, drawing inwards. Aragorn stood silent, and the three others sat without moving, wondering what way things would turn. Olympe fought to keep her calm.

Without a word or a cry, the Riders halted. In less seconds than it takes to say _'Quidditch'_ a thicket of spears was pointed toward the strangers. Some of the horsemen had bows in their hands, and their arrows were already fitted to the string. A man rode forward, taller than all the rest. He advanced until the point of his spear was within a foot from Aragorn's breast but her friend did not stir. Olympe felt as though she might pass out any time, the brutal sounds of hooves and armors only intensifying the anxiety that their position already bore for her. Without thinking, she grabbed the arm closest to her, her panicked look sweeping over the horsemen until her head spun with dizziness.

She shook off the drowsiness as a voice rang from the rows of riders. Slowly, she became aware that she was surrounded by her companions, gripping on to Aragorn.

\- 'What business have an Elf, a man, a Dwarf and a child in the Riddermark ? Who are you and what are you doing in this land ?' demanded the Rider. 'Speak quickly.'

It took Olympe a moment to grasp that the man who had asked the question was the same who had stepped off his horse to face Aragorn.

Gimli gripped the handled of his axe and his dark eyes flashed :

\- 'Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides.'

His eyes blazed, and the men of Rohan murmured angrily, and closed in, advancing their spears. Their Leader challenged :

\- 'I would cut off your head, beard and all, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground.'

By the time Olympe had understood his words, Legolas had already bended his bow and fitted an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight. 'He does not stand alone. You would die before your stroke fell.'

Aragorn sprang between them and raised his hand.

\- 'I am Aragorn son of Arathorn. That Dwarf is Gimli son of Gluin and beside us is Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. We are friends of Rohan and of Theoden, your King.

\- Theoden no longer recognizes friend from fow. Not even his own kin.' The Rider took off his great helm, unveiling harmonious features framed with blond hair. 'Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King and claimed lordship over his lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets,' he added, now staring at Olympe who was still hooded. 'You seem to have forgotten to introduce one of your companions.' he said with a suspicious gaze. 'Who are you ?' he asked, 'Why do you not speak, silent one ?' Loosing patience, the Rider rose his sword toward the cloaked girl.

She exchanged a glance with Aragorn and uncovered her head.

\- 'My name is Olympe', she stated, looking him straight in the eyes. To her surprise, he seemed disconcerted.

\- 'Forgive me, my Lady, for adressing you in this manner,' turning to Aragorn, he inquired : 'And pray, why is a young woman traveling with a man, an Elf and a Dwarf ?'

 _He could ask_ me _that. Jerk!_

\- 'She is my goddaughter and an orphan,' answered Aragorn, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. 'Her parents where killed by the Ores. I am her only family now.'

Olympe remained speechless while the Riders stared questionningly at her. She shook off the surprise and nodded, supporting Aragorn's story.

\- 'We are no spies.' He continued. 'We are pursuing a host of Uruk-hais across the plains to the West. They've taken two of our friends captive.'

\- 'The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night.' The tall Rider paused then added:'They were heavily armed and a large party. Had you been there, you would quickly have gone from hunter to prey.'

\- 'There were two Hobbits! Did you see two Hobbits with them?' pressed Gimli, desperate.

\- 'They would be small, only children to your eyes.' explained Aragorn.

\- 'We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them.' The Rider pointed to a thick pillar of smoke, filling the sky.

\- 'Dead ?' repeated Gimli, as if to himself.

Olympe put a conforting hand on his shoulder. She understood them only too well.

\- 'I am sorry', said the Rider. He wistled, 'Hasufel ! Arod ! Mewyn ! May these horses bear you to better fortunes than their former masters.' The three horses obediently troted forth as he called out their names. The first, Hasufel, was grey. Arod, the second horse, was bay of colour and the last one, Mewyn, was of a delicate golden shade.

 _What a gorgeous mare_...thought Olympe

She patted the golden horse's neck. She had always been fond of animals and had been lucky enough to get a few riding lessons before coming to Hogwarts and swaping her poney for a broom.

Legolas was taking Harod's saddle off, telling Gimli that they would ride together and Aragorn was still was still talking with the Rider. No one was paying attention to her and she took advantage of that moment to skillfully climb on the golden mare's back.

 _Girl power, okay, beautiful ?_

She caught a few lewd or disapproving looks from the riders around her.

 _What ? Have they never seen a woman riding ?_

\- Olympe, do you need any he…

Aragorn's words stuck in his throat. She was already in the saddle, her legs very visible and strangely it did not seem to bother her.

He stepped closer and urgently pulled the young woman's cloak over her legs.

\- 'You should not expose yourself in this manner, be more careful.

\- What do you mean by « expose »?

\- Well, you are not wearing a lot …' whispered Aragorn, pretending to adjust the saddle to escape her insistent gaze.

\- '« not wearing much »?' she reapeated, skeptically. She noticed that he was suddenly not adressing her as formally.

\- 'Your clothes… They plainly show your body.' Aragorn pointed out, losing patience.

\- 'Yeah. They're called trousers. And it seems to me that you're wearing some too.' she repplied humorlessly.

\- 'What I mean is… Listen, right now, they all think that you are my goddaughter, so do not give them the opportunity to see you as a…' He seemed to be searching for the right words for a few seconds, long enough for Olympe to understand what he was trying to say. ….'as something that you are not.

\- So wearing trousers makes me a slag ?' she shot back, flushing with outrage. 'This is your world ?'

\- 'Do not put words in my mouth. I know neither what a « slag » means nor how women dress where you come from. Know that here, this sort of atire is not one fit for a young lady. Do not give these men the chance to ruin your reputation.

Finishing his tirade, he turned away quickly and Olympe was left with no other choice than to glare at the Rohirims.

 _What the heck is wrong with this world ? Is this a return to Middle-Ages ? A land of all-powerful mysoginy ?_

\- Farewell.' finally announced the leader, climbing back on his horse, 'Look for your friends. But do not trust hope. It has forsaken these lands. My lady,' he nodded to Olympe, and with a last look at the group, he called out : 'We ride North !'

And a few seconds later they were alone, the trail of dust the riding party left in its wake still floating above the ground.

Grabbing the reins, the young woman lead Meowyn towards the rising smoke, too offended to wait for the others or even say she was moving on. But her anger melted away as the three men reached her with distressed and distant expressions.

She would have liked to lend them courage, promise them that there was always hope. But she kept hearing Rider's parting advice. ' _Do not trust hope. It has forsaken these lands._ ' What words could trump those ? Sometimes, actions were better than words. Sometimes, it was wiser to act than to speak.

She put the mare to a gallop and was swiftly passed by Legolas and Gimli, then Aragorn, the matching desperation on their faces tugging at her heart.

 _By Merlin, let us find them..._

Olympe lost notion of time while they rode but she was later able to tell that they closing in without even spotting the corpses. The foul smell of burned and decomposing flesh filled the air. An there they were, piled up, wrapped in a thick smoke that climbed up to the sky. A spear had purposefully been stuck in the ground and topped with an Uruk's head.

 _Their message sure gets through._

Suddenly, Legolas and Gimli's steed was blocking her path.

\- 'You should wait here. This is not a sight for a young woman', suggested the Elf, before dismounting and helping Gimli down.

She was about to argue when a curious sucking noise under her mare's hooves caught her attention. As if she were stepping on something slimly. She leaned on one side to take a closer look.

 _Bowels ! Oh, by Morgan…_

Confronted with this horrendous view, fragments of memories she would rather have forgotten flashed before her eyes. Ruins… corpses everywhere… some familiar faces she had to carefully step over… screams...

She tried to get a hold of herself but she could feel the blood draining from her face and the tears gathering in her eyes. Everything around her seemed to have started spinning and the repulsive smell made her stomach turn. She started when someone grabbed her left arm.

 _Huh. Two Legolases..._

She could see their lips move. She was certain they were adressing her but she could hear nothing, only an aggressive buzzing closing in on her. And everything spun, even the two Legolases.

As Olympe's face had paled to a snowy white and she had started swaying dangerously on her horse, Gimli had warned the Elf who had prevented her fall.

\- 'Are you alright? Olympe, can you hear me?'

Getting no reaction from the young woman, he grabbed her waist to pull her down on firm ground. But all the strength was gone from her legs and as soon as he let go, she tumbled to the ground.

Olympe had not really understood what was happening. She had gone from the mare's back to Legolas' arms and from there to the grass.

Distantly, the young witch could feel the Elf attempting to open her mouth. A cool and sweet drink trickled to her mouth. After a few gulps her ears popped, her head stopped spinning and her mind cleared.

\- 'You seem to be recovering… Do you feel better ?' he inquired. He was kneeling next to next, supporting her back with one arm. There was a small bottle in his hand.

\- 'Y.. Yes, I think so. Sorry about that.

\- The fault is ours. We should not have brought you so close to the carcasses. With an empty stomach, as well.

\- Your friends... did you find them ?

\- The others are searching and I shall go join them now. Will you be fine by yourself ?

\- I'll be up in a minute. Don't worry about me. Look for your friends, it's more important.

He smiled and touched her shoulder in a sympathetic gesture before leaving to help his companions. Confusion and embarrassment kept Olympe from being surprised by that small, unexpected show of endearment.

 _This is Griffondor courage ? Fainting at the first occasion ?_

Once the shock was overcome, she quickly got control back over her limbs. As soon as she was up, she joined the fellowship in their examination. The task would have been made much easier by putting the whole mass in levitation to make the task easier but she had to content herself with the oldfashion muggle way.

The more time flowed by, the more desperate the group grew.

\- 'It is one of their little belts.', spoke Gimli eventually, holding up the remains of a leather braiding.

Olympe dropped the pieces of armor she had been checking, too exhausted for words. Legolas started reciting an Elfic prayer while Aragorn let out a cry of rage and hit a helmet.

 _It's over. They're really dead._

\- 'We failed them', breathed Gimli.

But a detail in the soil caught Aragorn's attention.

\- 'A Hobbit lay here... and the other', he explained as he felt the ground. 'They crawled. Their hands were bound… Their bonds were cut.' Olympe, Gimli and Legolas were hanging on to his every word. 'They ran over here... and were followed... The tracks lead away from the battle!...into Fangorn Forest.' he finished decidedly.

\- 'Fangorn! What madness drove them there?' sighted Gimli.

\- 'That means they're alive! `Right?!' cried out Olympe, louder than she would have liked.

\- 'They might be', answered Aragorn.

\- 'What are we waiting for ?' Olympe started toward the thick woods but Aragorn caught her arm.

\- 'You should not come with us. We do not know what we might encounter this time.

\- So what ? Am I supposed to stay here watching the grass grow? You were ready to take me to a suicidal fight against Ores but _woods_ are too dangerous ?' Aragorn had started turning away but he faced her again when he heard her chuckle.

\- 'Don't make me laugh', she stepped closer,'I am coming with you. And this is not negociable.'

⁂

\- 'Orc blood!' commented Gimli after examining the haemoglobin on the bark of a tree.

With Aragorn in lead, the group had been treading through Fangorn Forest at a trot. Surprisingly, Olympe had managed to keep up with their merciless pace.

\- 'These are strange tracks.' observed Aragorn, coming to a stop.

\- 'The air is so close here.' growled Gimli

\- 'This forest is old... very old.' said Legolas. 'Full of memory... and anger.'

Sinister cracks echoed in the trees around the fellowship.

\- 'The trees are talking to each other.' explained the Elf.

Olympe laid a hand on her wand, ready to grab it if needed. Now that she could walk, if they threatened to burn her alive she had a fighting chance. Or the possibity to run, at least. Knowing how to use _Obliviate_ correctly might have come in handy but last time she had attempted the Memory Charm, the result had been disastrous. The test subject had forgotten absolutely everything.

\- 'Gimli!' called Aragorn.

\- 'Huh!' the Dwarf turned to him.

\- 'Lower your axe.' he whispered urgently.

\- 'Oh!' Gimli dropped his weapon and gingerly raised his empty hands. The forest was calm again.

\- 'They have feelings, my friend.' Legolas informed gently. He looked at their surroundings with reverence. 'The Elves began it : waking up the trees, teaching them to speak.'

\- Talking trees! What do trees have to talk about,mmh? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings.' mocked Gimli.

Olympe smiled at that.

\- 'At home, we have a bashing tree,' she offered, thinking of the Whomping Willow. But none of the three men seemed to have heard her.

Legolas gave Aragorn a warning in Elfic and everyone held their breath, the air crackling with tension. Olympe held her wand firmly against her thigh.

\- 'The White Wizard approaches.' said the Elf solemnly.

\- 'Is he an enemy?' Olympe's asked anxiously. Gimli nodded.

… _White Wizard…_

\- 'Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us. Olympe, you stay behind me. We must be quick.' warned Aragorn, wrapping his hand around the hilt of his sword. Gimli gripped his axe, Legolas notched an arrow in his bow. Olympe concured. As one, the three men turned around, throwing axe and shooting arrows at a blinding light that effortlessly deflected the attacks. Aragorn's blade flushed with fire, forcing him to let go of it.

 _Magic!_

Olympe took out her wand but her protector stepped in front of her.

 _No!_

\- 'You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits.', declared a man's deep, strangely echoing voice, his face hidden by the white light.

\- 'Where are they' demanded Aragorn.

\- 'They passed this way, the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that confort you?'

 _No._

\- 'Who are you? Show yourself!'

The beaming light faded to a mily glow then vanished, or rather seemed to gather inside an ivory silhouette. An old man, whose hair and beard were long and white then stood in front of them.

 _Dumbledore?_

\- 'It cannot be!', breathed Argorn.

\- 'Forgive me.' said Legolas, kneeling,'I mistook you for Saruman.'

\- 'I am Saruman.' answered the brilliant old man calmly. 'Or rather Saruman as he should have been.'

\- 'You fell!' murmured Aragorn with a mixture of baffled hope and disbelief.

… _White Wizard…_

\- 'Through fire and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as the life age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt light in me again.' He paused then concluded :'I have been sent back until my task is done.'

\- 'Gandalf!' murmured Aragorn, stepped towards the white-robed man.

\- 'Gandalf... Oh, yes. That was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name.'

Joy and relief were settling over the fellowship, but Olympe's mind was still reeling. The words _'White Wizard'_ echoed in every corner of her head. Where had she heard those words before?

 _He can do magic... There really is magic in this world!_

\- ' _I_ am Gandalf the White. And I come back to you now, at the...'

But his sentence was cut off as bright blue curls of smoke filled the air. The cobalt mist swiftly gathered and took the shape of a large feline circling each member of the group to eventually return to its origin spot. It dimed and vanished at Olympe's feet.

She took advantage of their bewilderment to call out :

\- 'Mister Gandalf, my mother told me you would be able to help me. My name is Olympe and I come from another world… Also, I am a witch.'

* * *

Note from Lynn (the writer):

Please don't hait me!

But there it is, Olympe revealed her magic to the fellowship! An event some of you might have been looking out for! So come on, tell me what you think in the reviews!

Note from Klara (the translator):

SORRY it takes so long to translate! It was very tricky to translate the quotes from the movie thaT Lynn employed in this chapter, using both the book and the script... plus my amateur translator skills at the same time... but I really hope the result is not to wearisome to read.

It might take ages but I do love translating. (It's not what I study, it is just a hobby.)

It is nice and really motivating to read reviews (especially Nosferatusophie's, thank you, really!). Until next time, have a beautiful day everyone!


	5. A Window to The Past

Comment responses:

Nosferatusophie: Thanks you! Yeah, Olympe has a panther Patronus. In this Chapter you'll see, we go a bit more into it. Damn right! (I love KungFu Panda too.) That's really sweet of you, Lynn and I will do our best!

TheBeauty: Thank you, that made me smile.

Starwarper: Thanks for the encouragement, really!

Here we go guy, please enjoy the read!

* * *

 **V**

After her tirade, Gandalf appraised the young woman with open interest, as though he was only noticing her for the first time.

The rest of the fellowship stood still for a minute. Then a barking laugh shattered the silence.

\- 'Ha Ha Ha Ha ! Really, my young friend, you surprise me more with every passing day!' Gimli exclaimed, his eyes dancing with mirth.

Legolas' and Aragorn's features seemed stuck somewhere between a smile and a grimace. Pushing everyone aside, Gandalf stepped closer to Olympe and grasped her chin, holding her head firmly in place while he examined her face. His brow furrowed and his eyes widened with astonishment.

\- 'Fíriel', he whispered.

\- 'W... Beg your pardon?'

The Wizard was staring straight at her but he seemed elsewhere.

\- 'No, it cannot be.

\- Huh? What can't be?'

She glanced over at her companions and her eyes darted questionningly from one man to the other but none appeared to know what was happening. Her weariness blazed up and turned to anger.

\- 'That's enough!' she declared, losing patience. The old man blinked a few times, as though waking from a dream. 'Can you or can you not get me home?!

\- I believe you have a lot to learn, young Olympe, but the time for revelations is not yet upon us. Forgive me.' He added softly, before turning to the others. 'One stage of your journey is over, another begins. War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras at all speed.'

Upon those words, he started walking and the fellowship followed.

 _What? That's it? What about me?_

\- 'Edoras? That is no short distance', voiced Gimli.

\- 'Wait! But... I don't get it! What revelations?!' demanded Olympe, struggling to catch up with the rest.

\- 'We hear of trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the King.' stated Aragorn, ignoring her.

\- 'Yes, and it will not be easily cured. Young lady, we will deal with you when the time comes. And while I do not yet possess the solution to your problems, you have a lot of answers for me.

\- Are you actually telling me now it not the time?' she challenged with indignant disbelief.

\- 'Then we have run all this way for nothing,' grunted Gimli. 'Are we to leave those poor Hobbits in this horrid, dark, dank tree-infested...' The trees rumbled threateningly. '… I mean charming, quite charming forest!'

Olympe was exhausted, irritated and having her problems cast aside as though she meant nothing only fueled her rage. She tuned out their discussion then put some distant between her and the rest to try and calm herself down. Grabbing her wand, she took out her wrath on a rock, yelling the incantations.

\- 'EXPULSO! CONFRIGO!'

The spells flowed from her like a fiery stream. The loud explosions resonated like thunder and the air filled with smoke and splinters. The trees creaked disapprovingly.

It was so unfair! Why did it have to be her? Why was she not home? And why did she ALWAYS have to quietly endure?

By the time she had cooled down, only a pile of pebbles was left from the stone. Olympe quickly made her way back to the others. Standing at the edge of the forest, they had retrieved the horses. None of the men commented on what they had just witnessed.

A melodious whistle slowly rose from Gandalf. An neigh answered him and gorgeous white steed materialized out of nowhere. It cut across the plain to the White Wizard.

\- 'That is one of the Mearas,' commented the Elf, 'unless my eyes are cheated by some spell.

\- Shadowfax', the Wizard introduced once the steed had reached them. 'He iss the lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers. Before we go, I would like to speak to Olympe alone. And', he added, glancing at to the three men, 'I ask this of you : Do not intervene.'

He put a hand on the young woman's shoulder and lead her a dozen meters away from the group.

\- 'Aren't we far enough already?', asked Olympe, annoyed by his ambiguous behavior.

\- 'Far enough?

\- Well, if _you_ 've got questions, I think we're already far enough that they won't hear.' she stated, a bit more dryly than she had meant to.

\- 'Oh, you are quite right that they cannot hear us from here. But I did not take you aside to talk.' Olympe was puzzled and he went on : 'Take out that wand of yours, would you? Very good. Now, attack me.'

He had voiced that last sentence with a tone someone might use to order bread in a bakery.

\- 'I'm sorry... What was that?

\- You heard me, young lady. Attack me.

\- But... I can't do t...

\- Just do as I say. I want another look at your abilities, against a real opponent... One more consistent than stone!'

This stung her pride and she complied. Incantations flew from her lips and spells burst from her wand:

\- 'Impedimenta! Atakunto! Expeliarmus!'

Gandalf deflected her magic with a confounding ease. He was seemed content blocking her attacks, using his staff and did not appear inclined to match her assault. She decided to change tactics.

\- 'Avis!' Tiny birds shot from the sculpted wood : 'Oppugno!'

The Wizard was then focused on avoiding the agressive feathered balls chasing him and meanwhile, Olympe mentally cast a _Stupefy_. It hit Gandalf with full force and threw him to the ground. She ran to him and hurriedly lifted the spell.

\- 'Are you alright?' pressed the girl as she helped him up.

\- 'Am I correct in thinking that you do not always need speech in your incantations?' he inquired, answering her question with another.

\- 'No, it's just a little harder to cast. Did I hurt you?

\- Not in the least.', he replied with a delighted grin. 'In fact, I am very pleased.

\- Why?'

Overlooking her, he strode over to the three men.

'You know, most of the time, when someone asks a question, they actually expect an answer!' she complained, rather to herself than to the Wizard, who was conscientiously ignoring her.

\- 'We leave now,' he declared, climbing on Shadowfax's back, 'for Edoras!

\- What about Olympe?' inquired Aragorn.

\- 'The girl rides with us.'

⁂

They rode all day long, taking as few breaks as the young woman could stand. Olympe had hopped that when she finally came across another witch or wizard, they would have a broom, since flying was much faster and far less painful than riding. But when she had mentioned that subject to Gandalf, he had only frowned and stared at her, perplexed.

At nightfall, luckily for Olympe, they resolved to stop for some sleep. She was still in a dreadful mood and it was sheer exhaustion that kept it from showing. She was used to carry her backpack and run from one classroom to another over changing staircases but day-long rides on an empty stomach where too much for the young woman. Her muscles were screaming, her legs numb and her hands covered with blisters, making it impossible to close her fists without wincing.

She gathered wood and lit it with a twirl of her wand, under the appreciative gaze of the fellowship who proceeded to cook the two hares they had hunted.

\- 'Aren't we going to put up a camp or look for a shelter?' wondered Olympe.

\- 'We travel as lightly as we can.' explained Aragorn.

 _Sleeping under the stars... Great. As soon as I can, I'll study my spells and set up a decent tent for everone._

\- 'You have a lot to tell us, don't you, young Lady-Witch?', pointed out Gimli during supper, smiling maliciously.

She was aware that Aragorn and Legolas were just as curious about her as their friend. They were simply too polite to show it. As for Gandalf, he remained a bit further away from the rest, observing the red sky painted over the horizon.

 _Well, I guess I owe them that much._

\- 'You're right. I think you deserve explanations. Go on, ask away. Otherwise I won't know what to start with.

\- Why keep it a secret?' fired Legolas immediately, his Elf reflexes allowing him to beat the two others to the punch.

He had spoken staring straight at Olympe and once more, his sharp eyes made her incredibly uncomfortable. It was not like that with Gimli or Aragorn but every time Legolas adressed her, his intent, piercing gaze forced her to look away.

 _Now that I think about it, he hasn't said a word to me all day up until now... Not since I showed them my powers._

\- 'Oh, well... First, you have to know that your world is similar to mine... not mine right now, but my world, the way it was five hundred ago. And back then, women suspected of sorcery were tortured and burned alive. And when you mentioned _Wizards_ to me... you know, it could have meant anything! As long as I had not seen magic here, with my own eyes... I did not want to risk putting myself in even more danger...'

Legolas nodded curtly, but his features softened and some of the ice melted from his gaze.

\- 'They burned women?', repeated Gimli, dumfounded.

\- 'Not just women. As soon as there was any suspicion,... for instance, if a woman healed someone with plants or if anyone started a rumor... Just for _good measure_ , she was executed. Muggles, that's what we call those without magic, have always been really creative when it comes to killing and torture. Sometimes, they would tie the accused to stones and let them sink in a river. If that person freed themselves and found its way out of the water, they were 'confirmed' a witch and if they drowned... 'oh well'. Of course, most of the time, the ones put to death were innocent muggles.

\- This is appalling!

\- This is very little compared to the slaughters in Salem. But the world has evolved a bit since then and the magical community stays hidden. More or less. To most people, we are elements of fiction. Most times in history when muggles have learned of our existence, they have attempted to wipe us out.

\- Why is that? Can you not simply live alongside?' asked Aragorn.

\- 'Fear. Mankind is afraid of the difference and the unknown. We have something that allows us to do anything more easily, from baking bread to committing a murder. To them, we are too powerful and too dangerous. They have almost always perceived us as a threat to get rid off.

\- Your world is strange.

\- Do you want to see a bit of it, of a better side of it... of my _strange_ world?' she offered hesitantly, oppening her bag.

To the three men's amazement, her entire arm disapeared inside the small backpack as she reached for her old spellbook. She came up with a handful of photographs and settled between the Elf and the Dwarf so that they would all see.

\- 'That's a picture at my school, those are my friends Lisa and Morgan. We were studying in the park.' she explained, pointing out two girls in Hogwarts robes, laying in the grass, the castle and mountains streching out in the background, the young women looking up from their notebooks and waving at the camera.

\- 'They are moving! How... how did they enter this parchment?' blurted a dazzled Gimli.

'They didn't enter... These are photographs, they're taken with a camera... well, it's complicated... Let's say that this is like a painting that moves, only it's a reallife picture.' Olympe was scrambling for words, not really knowing how to explain photography to her companions. But they did not seem to mind so she kept going : 'This is Morgan in a Quidditch match... it's a sort of sports with flying broom. Morgan's a Chaser. ...This is Hogsmead, a village close to our school. This is my House's common room... This is, ahem... it's Matthew, a friend, messing around with my camera.' A young man was making funny faces up close on the pictures.

She gave them the rest of the photographs to examine while she hunted for something else in her bag. They were startled in their observation by a small explosion and a sudden flash of light. Aragorn sprang up, his hand already on the hilt of his sword but as his vision cleared he simply saw Olympe, smiling apologetically with strange object in her hands. A white piece of paper came out of it and she simply settled back between them, staring a the sheet.

Colors slowly appeared, then faces, a background and finally a movement : Aragorn jumping to his feet and the startled features of Gimli and Legolas.

\- 'But... this is us', uttered the Elf disbelievingly.

\- 'Uh, yeah... it's a photograph.

\- Who is this?' asked Gimli, handing Olympe another image.

\- 'Oh, these are my mother and my brothers. I took this picture last Summer before going back to Hogwarts.

\- Your mother is very beautiful,' he showed to the two others. 'Where is your father?'

A shy, sad smile twisted her lips.

\- 'He died three years ago.

\- I am sorry', apologized Gimli.

\- 'You couldn't have known. It was during the war...'

No, she was not upset with the Dwarf but a deep familiar sorrow seeped into her heart. Talking of her father brought terrible memories to the surface. Every time she thought of him she first remember the good, happy memories. Then the bad ones came up, wrenched her heart out and reminded her a part of her was gone.

 _Unfair... Unfair... Like me being stuck here!_

She showed them a few more pictures: the school corridors, the Great Room and its enchanted ceiling. She took advantage of their focus on the photographs to slip away and be alone for a bit. She treaded throught the trees and when she felt at a safe distant, she leaned against a bark and let herself cry. She missed her world so intensely.

\- 'Tears are neither something to hide nor something to be ashamed of. Even more so in your case.'

Gandalf settled down by her side.

\- 'It's easy for you to say', she replied bitterly, then sighted. She was too tired to argue. 'I just miss them all so much,' she said, brushing the tears off her cheeks. 'I shouldn't be here.'

\- 'I do not agree. On the contrary, I do not believe it is a coincidence that you and the heir of Isildur have crossed paths. I feel that you will have a rôle to play in this world.'

 _The heir of Isildur…_

Those words rang for a while in Olympe's mind, the distant echoe of a memory struggling to rise to the surface. Then suddenly she remembered her mother's words :

 _« At the side of Isildur's heir, you have absolutely nothing to fear.»_

\- 'How can my mother know of this world?' she abruptly inquired, baffled. 'She gave me advice in my dreams. She told me about a White Wizard. And you said a name when fisrt you saw me... when you saw my face.' All the informations she had started rearranging themselves in Olympe's head like pieces of a puzzle. 'I look like her... I look like my mother... You knew her?! Gandalf!' She cried, as he avoided her gaze.

\- 'I once knew a woman, of the name Fíriel.' he started, gruffly. 'She was an Elf. She disappeared more than a thousand years ago. You do ressemble her. Unfortunately the one closest to her was Saruman.

\- A thousand years ago?' she echoed blankly. 'But you still haven't answered, how can my mother know this world? Having visions might be a common hability among witches and wizards but having acquaintances in another world is altogether unheard of! You're the White Wizard. I don't understand any of it...

\- I have not been the White Wizard for long. If your mother knows this world and she told you of a White Wizard, she must probably have meant Saruman.

\- But you said before he is the enemy.

\- He hasn't always been...

\- So summing up everything : I have been sent, Merlin only knows how, to a world which seems stuck in the Middle Ages. The only person here who might have a clue on how to get me home happens to be the no1 public enemy, one who is currently busy trying to destroy mankind. Have I left anything out, Mister?

Her insolent tone clearly displeased the Wizard, but in that moment she could not have cared less. She was frantic and she was fed up with this magician who only spoke in riddles and beat around the bush before finally offering up the knowledge she desperately needed. Knowledge which was not at all to her liking.

\- 'A confrontation with Saruman will, in the future, be unavoidable. We will then interrogate him. But for now, we are heading to Edoras of the Rohirims. Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King to gain control over him and his people. I cannot say what will happen when we reach the city. If we are separated, do not use your magic unless you need to shield yourself from a mortal danger.

\- Why?

\- If you are not with me when you use it, they will believe the Mordor sent you. No matter what you say, as an act of caution, they will execute you. Never underestimate someone whose thoughts are twisted by fear. Officially you will be my pupil. That will be enough to deflect suspicion.

\- I am already Aragorn's ward.

\- You are?' he asked, amused. 'Well you will be both. If anyone inquires about your origins, stay vague. Saruman must not get wind of this.'

He stood up and was about to leave when Olympe called :

\- 'Gandalf!' She decided to put aside her pride. 'Please forgive me for my poor conduct.'

He kneeled back down to face her.

\- 'I will do everything in my power to help you but you need to be patient. There are more critical issues, for now. The war is at our doors. We can neither afford to be divided nor to lose sight of our purpose.' He laid a hand on her shoulder. 'How old are you?

\- Seventeen.

Seventeen... You are still a child. Nonetheless, a child who has known war. Am I wrong?' She shook her head. 'Do not take offense, Olympe. You are so focused on yourself that you forget to take in what happens around you. I do not mean to make light of your troubles. Sooner or later, we will find a way. But for now, remember to live and to observe the world that surrounds you. You don't have to feel guilty about this.'

Olympe meditated on those words for a little while and decided to follow his advice. She would try to be patient. None of what was happening to her was the fellowhip's fault and she had no reason to take it out on them.

By the time she joined them again, their fire had died down to glowing red embers. Gimli appeared to be sleeping while the others seemed lost in their own thoughts. After putting away her photographs, she took out her guitare. The fall from her arrival to this world had sunk the body and ripped two strings. She repared her instrument with a twirl of her wand and started tuning it.

\- 'I have never seen an instrument like yours before.' stated Legolas, sitting opposit to her.

\- 'Really? You've never seen a guitare?

\- 'Never.'

The guitare as Olympe knew it was a relatively recent invention after all, but she only remembered this later on.

\- 'It's similar to the lute, but it produces a different sound.'

She let her finger glide over the strings, soflty struming the opening of one of her favorite songs : ''Blackbird'' by the Beatles.

The introduction over, she stopped playing and waited for their reaction.

\- 'It that all?' called Gimli, now wide awake.

\- 'That was just a demonstration, to show you the instrument.' The young woman laughed.

\- 'Come on, do not make me ask twice.' complained the Dwarf.

\- 'Alright, alright...'

She played the opening a few times over before finding the appropriate moment to start singing. Her voice was not spectacular but it was soft and right for this kind of melody.

 _Blackbird singing in the dead of night,_

 _Take these broken wings and learn to fly._  
 _All your life,_  
 _You were only waiting for this moment to arise._

 _Blackbird singing in the dead of night,_  
 _Take these sunken eyes and learn to see._  
 _All your life,_  
 _You were only waiting for this moment to be free._  
 _You were only waiting for this moment to be free._

 _Blackbird, fly..._

 _Blackbird, fly..._

 _Into the light of the dark black night._

 _Blackbird singing in the dead of night,_

 _Take these broken wings and learn to fly._  
 _All your life,_  
 _You were only waiting for this moment to arise._

 _You were only waiting for this moment to arise._

 _You were only waiting for this moment to arise._

The last accord vibrated softly under Olympe fingers before comng to a stop.

\- 'This is a beautiful song, and you have a pleasant voice.' commented Legolas. 'But it is odd, most of ours songs are to tell stories.

\- 'In my world, songs allow us to express personal feelings. Emotions are very important in music. A good song is one that makes you feel. A lot of people can relate to a song about lost love, for instance : '' _Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away_ …'' or a beautiful love song '' _All you need is love…All you need is love… All you need is love, love… Love is all you need_ ''.'

She hummed those two tunes, plucking the accords. She felt more alive than she had felt in days. Her mood was lifting but weariness soon started taking over. Her lids weighed like lead and the cold numbed her fingers.

\- 'Speaking of love, is there a betrothed expecting you, home?' inquired the Dwarf, a malicious light dancing in his eyes.

\- 'A what? A _betrothed_?' she repeated with a puzzled look then burst out laughing. 'No, no of course not!' The fellowship did not seem to find this ludicrous in the least. 'Come on, I'm far too young!

\- No one makes your heart race, back where you come from?' asked Aragorn.

-'Yes, my potion's teacher when he reminds us we had an essay to do that I forgot about! Ha ha! No, but seriously... not really, there isn't.

\- You should all get some rest.' declared Gandalf, his gaze fixed upon the East and the West. 'We will soon be riding again.'

Olympe put away her guitare then looked around for a spot to sleep on. Gimli patted the groud between him and the Elf. She sat down with them and lit her Bluebell Flames jar. Using her bag as a pillow and her cloak as a blanket, she curled up in a ball, the warm glass against her stomach.

\- 'Lady Olympe?' whispered Gimli.

\- 'Just Olympe', she replied.

\- 'Yes, pardon. Olympe, will you sing us other songs of your world... someday soon?

\- 'Yes. Yes, for sure.'

This time she did not fight the huge smile streching across her face. And as soon as she closed her eyes, she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

There you go! Now you know why I chose this title. I hope this ending was less frustrating than the last one. Thank you for the reviews. Please keep posting them, getting feedback, different perspectives and advice is what keeps me going!

I had some doubts about this chapter because it is one of those 'hollow' times (it's still not a filler, please!) with little action and it makes me worry that the reader might get bored. Well, bye for now, hugs everyone! Have a nice week!


	6. King of the Rohirims

Note:

The birds are chirping, the sun is high in the sky and the air is full of pollen trickling from the trees like snow cotton. The wind carries the scent of apple blossoms through the open windows and...

ANYWAY, Summer is upon us and with that, holidays! Which means more time to translate. (Who am I kidding, which means more time to read other fanfictions – and real books too! - and occasionnally ride my bike to a friend's place to watch any Miyazaki or Harry Potter movie.

Why am I even pretending people read that section? (Like... I'm just the translator.) Well, if anyone had the patience too, kudos to ya!

Here's the new chapter, the sixth.

I only have one more left to translate and then I'll have to wait for inspiration to hit my friend Lynn (...metaphorically, preferably).

Now get youself some snacks, cuddle up and and enjoy the read...

* * *

 **VI**

Moonlight filtered through the clouds and enshrouded everything in a silver sheen when Gandalf roused them awake. Olympe suspected the old Magician had waited for them to fall alsleep to wake up them minutes later. Luckily it was impossible to know for sure without a watch.

She would have done anything for a steaming cup of tea with toasts and scones but for now, lembas and water would have to do.

The wind was icy as the group broke camp and cut effortlessly through their thick cloaks. The young witch could not stop trembling and would would not have frowned upon a muggle's way of transportation, even. They rode all night. At one point, Olympe clandestinely took a picture of Gimli sneaking some hours of sleep behind Legolas, swearing to herself that when time came, she would not hesitate to use it. Putting her magic camera away, she pressed her hands to the mare's neck to warm her numb fingers.

When the first rays of sun broke across the horizon and gilded the edge of the clouds, Olympe shivered with pleasure under the soft warmth. Her lids fell closed, all of her muscles relaxed and her weariness melted away. She sighted happily. She noticed excitedly that she was not as tired as she thought.

However, the monotony of the travel dimed her good mood little by little. They did not speak or stop to rest anymore. They just kept going on the never-ending trail and riding in silence was dull. When the witch's boredom reached its peak, she took out her wand and distracted herself with simple charms, summoning birds who circled around her for a few moments before vanishing with a popping sound.

This amused Gimli enormously and put smile on everyone's faces. But after some time, even this could not cheer the young girl up and she started counting clouds.

While she got to the fourty-fourth, Aragorn broke the quiet :

\- 'When you revealed your magic, you conjured a animal of mist. I had never seen anything like it before. What was it?

\- Ah, it's a panther... a sort of large wild cat. It's my Patronus.

\- Your what?

\- My Patronus. It's works like a shield. The opponent will fight it rather than the wizard. Actually... I was pretty surprised too! Corporeal Patronuses are the hardest to cast, it was only my third time summoning it this well: Most of the time, it's only indisctinct blue fog. It must have been the relief of finally seeing another wizard.

\- So your state of mind affects your magic as well...' Gandalf pondered.

\- 'Yeah, for the Patronus Charm, it does. It's a kind of positive force and the incantation only works if you are concentrating with all your might on a single, very happy memory. Producing one is already an achievment in itself... and using one in real life is not like in a classroom. Not anyone can focus on a happy memory when they're in mortal danger.

\- But you are not just anyone, are you, young lady.' Gandalf pointed out with a smile.

\- 'I had a very good teacher... and as I said, I've only produced a corporeal Patronus three times in my life. One important fact though: We do not choose the shape it takes. Most people have more common animal, like cats and dogs. It gave me a shock the first time I saw mine.

\- Those … panthers, they are not common?

\- Panthers? No, at least not where I am from. I only saw one in my life. I must have been about nine years old. My parents and I were on vaccation in Africa. It's a very warm place, far from home. We were visiting a wizarding community there... My father was really into any kind of exotic magic and as soon as he'd heard that African wizards didn't use wands, our bags were packed. It was gorgeous there. The village was nestled in the heart of the tropical forest. One day, I was bored. My parents were busy with their studies and I don't know what I was thinking but I went on a walk, out of the village. For a while, I played in the forrest. And all of sudden, it was there. The panther. I hadn't heard it approach, of course. It was crouching in the ferns only a few feets away and it looked huge. I mean, it was probably a normal-sized panther, but I was nine so everything looked huge. She stood still and stared at me. We were so close I could here her breathe. I was absolutely petrified! I was on my own, facing a creature which could kill me in a blink.

\- 'But you could have used your magic, then, couldn't you?' Gimli asked, fascinated.

\- 'No, we get our wands at our eleven's birthday. I couldn't do anything. I don't remember how long we stayed like that. It could have lasted minutes or hours. But the villagers had noticed I was missing and a wizard stepped in and positioned himself as a shield between me and her. I closed my eyes for a second and when I looked again, she'd vanished. I can't remember many times in my life when I've been that frightened. My parents were very angry, of course.' Olympe added with a fond smile. 'I can't tell you how surprised I was when I conjured my first corporeal Patronus and it turned out to be a panther!

\- 'Tell me, do you have no restrictions to your magic?' Gandalf inquired.

\- 'What do you mean by 'restrictions'?

\- 'A limitation in its use, a line that you must not cross, a rule to ensure you do not use it for vain reasons.

\- No, of course not! We don't have anything like that. The wizarding world is almost entirely dependant on the free use of magic. We use it as light, as a means of traveling, to build houses... We do whatever we want with it. Well, almost. There are some things that are forbidden, of course. For instance, the Unforgivable Curses. Using one gets you locked up.

\- And, what are the effects of those 'curses'?

\- One of them is to inflict terrible pain, to torture. Another allows a wizard to control another being. The last one kills.

\- You know these spells?

\- Yeah... I do... But they're forbidden.' Olympe had difficulties following his train of thought. 'You're not going to ask me to demonstrate them for you?!

\- Of course not. Your magic intrigues me. I wonder where its limits lay.

\- Life, money, knowledge, food and love. Those are the limits. And nothing that is created through magic is eternal. Anyway... I think that's enough about me! Tell me some more about yourselves! Do you guys have 'bethrotheds awaiting you home'?' They all stared at her, baffled. 'Hey, you asked me yesterday. Fair's fair.' The girl petitionned.

\- 'Well then, I fear that you will be disappointed. There are no women awaiting our return.' repplied Aragorn sofly, his gaze absently fixed on the horizon.

As far as disappointments went, that sure was one gossip would have been a great distraction.

\- You're right, I very disappointed. This is a lot less fun than I'd hoped... « _O rage! o despair! o age, my enemy! Have I thus lived this long to suffer infamy ?_ »*' She declared, lifting her arms to the sky in a theatrical fashion. 'I'm bored to death here!'

It was only a small exageration. Olympe was tired of the endless monotony. Unfortunately, none of her travel companions seemed inclined to give her anything to offer any means of entertainment. She went back to counting clouds until Gandalf called out:

\- 'Quit complaining. You want to hear something good? Well, we're almost there.

\- YES! Wait,... 'Almost' as in a few hours or a few days?

\- We can be there in less than an hour if we hurry.

But that was enough for the young woman to send her horse into a gallop, challenging: 'Want to bet who gets there first?'

In the distance, the harsh outline of ramparts was becoming clearer. The rest of the group quickly reached the witch. Then passed her.

\- 'WAIT FOR ME!' She yelled with laugh.

The wind tangling her hair and whipping her face felt exhilarating. She began to grasp how to sit better on the saddle, in order to allow the mare to go full speed. Once that was understood, she quickly caught up with the others and focused on staying ahorse.

Gandalf decided on one last break, before entering the city. He declared :

\- 'Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Sarumane's hold over King Théoden is now very strong. Olympe, do you possess a means of sealing your bag?

\- I do... but why?

\- Then close it. They will not let you enter otherwise. Conceal your wand as well. Moreover, be careful what you say.' He added for the group. 'Do not look for welcome here.'

 _Wouldn't be any fun if we did, would it?_

They reached a heavily guarded door and Olympe's gaze instincively rose up to a green embroided flag depicting a white steed, floating above them. It had most likely just ripped from it's staff and the cloth danced on the wind before settling miserably on the grass.

The Fellowship walked into the city. For the first time, Olympe became truly aware of how different this world was from hers. Her surroundings screamed Middle-Ages movie set.

The sight might have been breathtaking, the horizon bordered with mighty mountains crowned with shimmering snow but the villagers were silent and bore expressions of gloom.

\- 'You'll find more cheer in a graveyard' Gimli remarked, upon their cold reception.

 _I'd probably look this sulky too if I lived here._

They dismounted at the foot of the castle entrance, entrusting the horses to a guard. Olympe reajusted her bag on her side then pointed her wand at it and whispered « _Collaporta_ ». The spell sealed the purse with a small suction noise and after making sure that it was fastened, the young witch hid her wand in her sleeve. They climbed the white steps up to a gigantic locked door.

A guard stepped in to block their passage.

\- 'I cannot allow you before King Théoden so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of... Grìma Wormtongue.

Olympe snickered upon hearing that ridiculous name but quickly disguised her laughter as a cough when she caught Aragorn's warning glance.

Gandalf's behavior made it clear that they were to follow through and a thousand weapons passed before her eyes: swords, bow, daggers, arrows, knives... Her companions seemed to own every single weapon ever invented. Olympe could never have imagined that they were armed this thoroughly and she saw how upset Gimli was as he handed his axe away.

A Rohirim who seemingly did not appreciate to see her stand still stepped closer to the young girl and grabbed her shoulder with the open intention to search her for weapons. Olympe was startled by the strength of the hand that held her in place. This man was so tall that she was forced to bend her neck to look him in the eyes. His face was hard and something akin to disgust twisted his lip. He scowled and glowered at the girl.

\- 'Is there a probl...' She started.

\- 'What exactly are you doing?' Legolas challenged coldly, having suddenly appeared by her side.

If the guard's frown had unsettled her, it was nothing compared to the frost in the Elf's eyes. All her companions stood still and glared icely at the Rohirim.

\- 'Let go of my ward, right now.' Aragorn warned.

Faced with that much hostility, the guard loosened his hold.

\- 'She could be hiding things.' He justified gruffly.

\- 'I am not hiding anything.' Olympe offered smoothly, holding her hands up.

\- 'I need to see the contents of your bag.

\- You're not going to examine the personal belongings of a young woman, are you?' She cried out with well feigned outrage.

The Rohirim glanced at his superior, plainly at a loss on how to handle the situation.

 _Wow, I should totally become an actress!_

\- 'Oh well... I suppose I can leave it here under your watch, if it conforts you.' She sighed dramatically, holding out her purse and lowering her eyes then took the arm Legolas was presenting her with like a high society lady from her favorite movies.

The guard looked away, embarrassed and the Elf pulled her to the side. All clear. In any other situation, she would have burst out laughing by then but she remained grave and solemnly thanked Legolas for getting her out of there.

\- 'Your staff.' The Rohirim shortly demanded as the Magician reached the threshold.

Swiftly, Gandalf took the contrite air of one burdened by the unimaginable weight of countless years. He really look like a granddad as he quavered in a singsong voice:

\- 'Eh? Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick.

Aragorn hurriedly took his arm, corroborating with his role.

 _And it looks I've already got a rival for the Oscars!_

The guard gave up, throwing Gandalf one last knowing glance before stepping aside.

They entered a throneroom which reflected the village's atmosphere : cold, dark and sinister. They walked across a long alley of sculpted pillars. A few keen courtiers whispered in the shadows but Olympe took no notice of them. Her gaze was fixed on the man crouching on the carved throne. His hair and beard were as white as his skin was wrinkled. His pale blue eyes stared lifelessly ahead, caked with yellowish crusts which flowed down his cheeks. But a crown rested on his snowy head so Olympe could only presume this old man was the King of Rohan.

Like a shadow falling over him, a man crouched closely by his side. His ghastly face was framed with a mass of black oily hair. His waxy skin only empathized the dark circles aound his heavily-lidded eyes. But more than his physical appearance, there was something strongly disturbing in his gaze.

 _Snape?_

Olympe instinctively tightened her hold on the Elf's arm and put herself behind Gandalf to avoid the sight of this man.

\- 'My lord. Gandal the Grey is coming. He is a herald of woe.

\- 'The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King.' Said Gandalf in a strong voice.

\- 'He is not welcome here.' The shadow whispered in the King's ear.

Theoden spoke:

\- 'Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?

\- A just question, my liege.'

The shadow stood and walked up to the Wizard.

\- 'Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is in an ill guest.'

His mad eyes sweeped over the Fellowship, fastening on the blond girl who turned away, feeling nauseous.

O how desirable she seemed, the delicate flower among her guards of thorns. Out of reach... like the white Lady of Rohan who would soon be his.

'Be silent!' Gandalf yelled. 'Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!' He cried, pointing his staff threateningly at the shadow.

\- 'His staff! I told you to take the Wizard's staff!' Shrieked the retreating figure.

 _At the first sight of danger, the snake slithers back into his hole..._

In a flash, they were encircled by a dozen guards. Her companions threw themselves into the fight to protect the Magician.

\- 'Théoden, Son of Thégel. Too long have you sat in the shadows.'

As a guard appeared in front of her, his features twisted into a mad, perverse grin, Olympe managed to grab her wand. She smiled back.

\- 'STUPEFY!'

The man flew across the room and crashed against a column with a sickening crack before sliding unconscious to the ground. Olympe, stunned with the force of her spell, tripped and landed on her behind.

 _Whoa...What the heck just happened?!_

Still disturbed by the unexpected strength of her _Stupefy_ , she contented herself with casting Full Body-Binding Curses on anyone who came too close. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Grìma, knocked down by the Dwarf.

\- 'I would stay still if I were you.' Gimli growled.

\- 'Harken to me!' Gandalf called out to the King. 'I release you from the spell!'

The old man let out a sinister cackle:

\- 'You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!'

Suddenly, the Magician threw aside his cloak and the blinding light of his white robes filled the throneroom.

\- 'I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from the wound.' He promised, tackling the King to his seat with his staff.

A woman with long blond hair ran to the King but Aragorn caught her and told her to wait. Olympe look at the her more closely : She had fine features, encased in a platinum river of hair, flowing around a lith frame in a splendid white and gold-embroided dress. She was absolutely stunning; the perfect representation of a Middle-Ages princess.

\- 'If I go... Théoden dies.' Threatened the King with a voice that was not his own.

\- 'You did not kill me. You will not kill him.

\- Rohan is mine!

\- Be gone!'

In stead of an answer, the King threw himself on the Magician who could only defend himself with his staff. Lighning exploded across the room. The crowned man leaned dangerously forward and was only caught in the last moment by the beautiful blond who kneeled down in front of him.

Olympe thought she was hallucinating as Théoden's hair filled out, turning a soft light brown and his wrinkles vanished. Where an old King had fallen, there stood a proud man, in the prime of life. His hair and beard were streamed in a golden blond and his blue gaze was sharp and lively.

\- 'I know your face.' He murmured, looking at the young woman in front of him. 'Èowyn... Èowyn!' Turning to the Magician, he called in recognition: 'Gandalf!

\- Breathe the free air again, my friend.'

With Èowyn's help, the King of Rohan slowly stood up, until is height allowed him to overlook the throneroom.

\- 'Dark have been my dreams of late.

\- Your fingers would remember their old stength better... if they grasped your sword.'

A squire carefully approached the King and handed him the prized weapon. Théoden let his fingers slide over the hilt before grasping and holding out the blade. His memory seemed to reassemble when his gaze fell to his adviser, who was still being held down by Gimli.

Upon an order from the ruler, the guards took over and dragged him outside. Her step still unsure, Olympe did her best to blend in with the rest of the crowd following the King. The Rohirim threw Grìma unceremoniously down the white stairs that only moments ago, the fellowship had climbed. Folded on himself in the dust and the dirt, Wormtongue then looked like a beggar. The young witch would have enjoyed the sight of his demise. After all, he was a monster with mad, obscene eyes. However she could not help the pity that flowed through her heart in that moment.

At the great doors, Olympe looked around for her purse. She spotted it in the hold of a guard who was trying to force its opening, without success. She ripped it out of his hands.

\- 'Hey! Don't mind me!'

The man looked at her apologetically. All around them, the threshhold was filled to the brim with a curious crowd who did not want to miss out on whatever was happening with their ruler. She had to elbow her way through to Gimli and Legolas.

\- 'I've only ever served you, my lord!' Grìma pleaded, cowering in front of the furious King.

\- 'Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!' Theoden yelled.

\- 'Send me not from your side!'

The King stepped forward and raised his sword. The verdict was clear : The snake was to be executed. Olympe looked away.

\- 'No my lord!' His blade cut threw air before it was stopped by Aragorn, who had hurried to face the ruler. 'No my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account.'

Théoden's rage dimmed and little by little, he lowered his sword then looked to his fallen adviser. Aragorn generously offered Grìma a hand. The fallen shadow's features were disfigured with anger and he spit on the help that was extended towards him and fled, shoving the agglutinated farmers out of his way.

\- 'Hail, Théoden King!' Aragorn exclamed loudly and a lot of voices enthusiastically echoed his cry.

But Théoden's face showed neither joy nor relief as he turned and asked :

\- 'Where is Théodred? Where is my son?'

Sitting atop of the great white castle stairs, her hood pulled up, the young witch gazed upon the sorrowful sight that laid ahead. The Prince's funeral. She had attended the opening of the ceremony from as far away as she could. Aragorn and Gandalf had not tried to persuade her otherwise when she had told them she wished to be some distance away from the burrial. She had followed the first onlookers as they made their way back to the city and she had been waiting for her friends since.

She did not went to attend the funeral. She would have felt out of place. A lost girl attending the departing ceremony of someone she did not know, just for the sake of appearances. Her principles forbid it. To her family, a funeral had been a moment of intimate gathering, of sharing the pain of a passing with close ones.

When her father died, only the close family members had attended the funeral. If total strangers had then invited themselves to the ceremony, she would not have been able to stand it.

'It's a whole other culture.' She muttered to herself.

From where she sat, she could glimpse Èowyn, Gandalf, Aragorn and Legolas standing by the King, the somber procession threading deeper in the crowd then disappearing in the crypt.

After some time, the mass of people dissolved. Her friends started back towards the great door, all but Gandalf who remained by Théoden's side.

\- 'Miss?' A woman's voice called out from behind her.

A girl came forward, one barely older than Olympe. Her dark hair was braided into a bun at the back of her head, revealing a delicate neck. She wore a dress of thick linen with a round collar and a deep green surcot, ajusted with rough lacings on either side of her bust.

\- 'Yes?

\- Do you wish to see your room? We have poured you a bath.'

With a quick glance, she spotted her companions who were crossing the city's threshold then nodded. The young woman lead her through the castle, through countless halls and corridors. The walls were carved stone encrusted with wood decorations; the pattern of a horse came up quite a lot. The servant guided her with a confident stride, the thick folds of her dress rippling with each movement. Only her steps echoed in the large space, Olympe's feet being still wrapped in cloth, allowing her to progress silently.

The young witch was about to try making conversation when her guide finally stopped in front of one of the many doors of an endless corridor and bid her in. The room was warmly lit with a set of colorful stained glass window and in the middle stood a metal bathtub, filled with still steaming water. A white cloth spread in it came up on each side of the tub. A dressing table with a mirror had been placed in one corner, as well as a chest of drawers. A large crakling fire place heated the large space. Olympe gazed longingly on the double bed while the servant unfolded a screen right next to the tub.

\- 'You can leave your things here.' She explained, pointing to a chair. 'I'll go now and fetch you some clean ones.'

\- 'Uh... and what will you do with my clothes?' Olympe asked, suspicious.

The young woman's eyes widened and a clear laughter erupted from her before she answered:

\- 'Clean them, of course!Come now, hurry before the water gets cold.'

Olympe stepped behind the folding screen and quickly undressed, leaving her clothes on the indicated chair. The servant took them, laid several towels in their place and turned to leave.

\- 'Excuse me?' Olympe called after her, her senses already delighted with the sweet-scented steam.

\- 'Yes, miss?

\- What is your name?

\- Fréa, miss.

\- Fréa, thank you for everything.

\- You don't have to thank me, miss.'

Olympe heard a door close and slowly stepped the water. She kept her eyes closed for a long time, enjoying the effect of the warmth of her body. It felt like this was the first time she was not cold since she had arrived to this crazy world. Rider folks, day-long horse rides, women wearing only dresses... All of that seemed so anciant, so ...unrealistic. And yet, there she was.

She had to cast a dozen charms on her tangled hair to bring it back to an acceptable state. She then dove underwater.

Several small soap bars lined the edge of the tub and she set about meticulously cleaning her body. The soap kept sliding through her fingers and sinking in the water.

She was weary... So weary and numb. There she was and yet it was as though she was just a witness, as though she felt nothing, as though it was all happening to someone else. She had neither the strength nor the will to do anyhing anymore... but was probably just exhaustion talking.

She laid her head back against the tub.

What would have happened, had she not come across Aragorn? Or rather, had he not come across her? She would probably be dead.

 _Starved, frozen... or killed by an Ore. Or worse, kidnapped!_

A tremor went through her, an unstoppable momentum of horror drowning her and she dove underwater did not help to still the shivering so she decided to step out.

She wrapped herself in the towels. These were so thin she had to use three just for her hair. She discovered the clothes Fréa had laid out for her. She had not heard her bring them.

She put on the cotton undergarments and bandaged her breasts with a large strip of cloth. There was a red sucot and two dresses, both white. One was of a thin embroided material, the other one thicker, apparently warmer.

Was she supposed to choose one to wear? The former was not much to go around in...

 _Unless..._

She put on the light embroided one, then topped it with the thicker dress and grabbed the wool chausse from the backrest. These went above her knees and were fasten with bootlaces. She donned the surcot and tied the laces on either side of her waist. The pair of leather boots under the chair completed the look. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She was dressed like Fréa, only with carmin instead of emerald.

She stepped closer to the polished surface and for the first time since she had gotten there, she took the time to examine herself. Her hair was still damp from the bath and dripped lazily over her back and shoulders. Her lips were chapped and cracked in many places, her skin gleamed red from the cold and the constant wind. She did appreciate the absence of dark circles under her tired eyes. It was not as bad as she had thought it would be.

The hairdresser table was lined with combs and several small jars. She opened one and smelled the white paste it held. _Honey!_ She thought happily. Another was scented with lavender and the last one, she could not identify. She took a little of the flower smelling paste and rubbed it on the red blotches of her face.

Once she had combed her hair, Olympe grabbed her bag and exited the room. She had no notion of how long she had stayed in it, but the sun was already high in the sky.

 _So, where are my friends now?_

After a small moment of reflection in the corridor, she decided to go back to the throneroom. After all, Gandalf had had urgent things to discuss with the King.

She went back the same way she had been with Fréa, and got the wrong door a few times before finding the passage leading to the royal hall. She encountered but two or three guard, recognizing them by the metallic clink that caracterized them so often.

Olympe strode confidently towards a door, ignoring the stare of the two Rohirims guarding it, their hands casually resting on the hilts of their swords. She was raising her hand to the doorknob when a loud voice startled her.

'Stop right there!' The first man warned. 'The King is having a war councel. He must not be interrupted. You do not have the right to enter.

\- I am a friend of Gandalf and his three companions. I have to go to them.'

The man guffawed.

\- 'Naturally! And I am Lady Èowyn's suitor! Come on now, little girl, be on your way!

\- My friends are expecting me! Let me in!

\- Go back to work and let us do ours.' He repplied with a conniving glance in his partner's direction.

\- Beg your pardon? And what work would that be? Cooking? Cleaning?

\- Good! You _do_ know your pla...

\- That was a rethorical question.' She interrupted with a glare, raising her voice.

\- 'Listen hear, little girl, you are starting to get on my nerves. I'm warning you, go on your way or we will have to use force!

\- Oh, I'd like to see that! Olympe challenged, brandishing her wand, its end already producing small angry sparks. 'Trust me, I can hurt you far more than you can hurt me, with those shoddy primitive baboon weapons!

Her tirade ended as the doors opened on Legolas, his eyes wide with astonishment. At her attire? At the threat she had just delivered with her wand raised? He composed himself again before she had a chance to guess any further.

\- 'I thought I'd heard you.' He sighted, laying a hand on her shoulded and leading her inside. 'Come. I believe you have traumatised them enough for today.'

The guards gaped at her and without a look back, Olympe entered the great room.

* * *

* This is a famous quote from Don Diègue in the illustrious 17th century play _Le Cid_ by French playwright Pierre Corneilles.

* * *

There you go guys!

Before anyone starts commenting on Olympe's new getup, as a specialist in the matter, I would like to clear some stuff up. It's about a common mistake that you'll come across in most fictions that feature a Middle-Age dressing scene. Someone sent a review about this on my French account so I wanted to set this straight.

\- Is it just me or is that head o' yours swelling?

\- My head's just fine, Olympe. Now hand me back the mic. Time for a little Costume History lesson...

Hum hum, the piece of clothing called a _corset_ as most picture it made its first appearance in the 1860s, during the Second Empire. From the 16th to the 18th century, women wore _corps baleinés_ and later on _corpiqués_. Those give the body an upside down cone shape and they are  not corsets.

Middle-Ages costume do not cram and constrict the woman's body. The ideal silhouette of a young lady at the time is slim and small-breasted (which is why Olympe wraps her chest tightly with cloth) but not drastically modified.

\- Now I feel lucky I didn't travel to a later Age! I can't imagine how annoying it must be to wear a corset...

\- You can't imagine how annoying it is for me to constantly encounter an item of clothing which is to be invented centuries later in Middle-Ages placed fanfics! Especially when the women put it on by themselves, which suggest a corset with that special lacing that was created only in...

\- Stop! You'll scare them all away! That was enough costume explanation for one day, I think.

\- But... hey, you're my character! How can you cut me off?

\- I can because you've already lost half the readership with that extra part... I know you're passionate but you'll go on for hours if I let you.

\- Oh, sorry... At least, it cleared things up! (*embarrassed laughter*)

\- There are times I'm ashamed of you... (*shakes head and sighs*)

* * *

So, what do you think of this chapter?

What of Olympe's reaction with the Rohirims? Think she should calm down or get angry?

What do you think will come next?

Are you hoping for a romance? With whom?

Come on, please review!

xoxo


End file.
